#use humor to blow off the very real worry

[mayasaurusss]

haii I can request modern lottie headcanos ?

Warnings: Jock (but also nerdy?) Lottie, Lottie is a loser-virgin, use of every single cliche in the book, for the sake of the story let's pretend they have this instant chemistry moment, fluff fic, humorous writing, not proof read, the author regrets begin born.

A/N: hey anon, remeber when I said I had an idea and wanted to make this a oneshot instead of a headcanon? Well, I completley forgot my idea and this brewed in my head last minute, so I tried to put this thing thogeter. This story isn't very good but I hope you will like it!

Lottie is one of the most popular girls in school. She is on the soccer team, she is rich and she is beautiful, men and women alike fall to their feets for her attention. She simply has to get to the top of everything, whether it is school or soccer, making the ones around her jealous of her or to be her. Lottie is tough, both in body and spirit: during practice she manages to get going for hours, even when her teammates are tired. During exams, she remembers almost everything she studied and only a few times she has failed, due to laziness and too much faith in her abilities. She has told herself to never slack off ever again and so she continues practicing after school in her backyard, no matter if it's freezing or raining or just a bad day, she pushes her body to the limit almost every day. She studies hours on hours on hours, just after her endless practice, till midnight; sometimes she consumes her dinner while studying for her next exam. Lottie has virtually no time for herself anymore, but she knows it's her fault. She knows that she does this to appease her father's wishes for her life and that she will never make him proud. She tells herself that she's ok, that she can continue doing this without repercussions.

She is on fire today, she has just passed one of the most difficult tests of the year without breaking a sweat attracting to herself the envy of various people -and Natalie's-, had successfully exposed a presentation in class -"How cults can change people psyche", by Lottie Matthews-, and now is practicing, having just scored a goal after being chased by Taissa and making her repeatedly taking her to the ground. Lottie is triumphant, sweat coating her skin and a smile gracing her lips, the same smile that made people develop crushes for her. "Ok team, I want you to try and score a goal, Lottie, Taissa and Van, you guys try to stop them, ok?" Coach Ben says.

Lottie moves to her place near Taissa, ignoring the looks the girl gives her, Van behind the, waiting for the ball. When the coach blows the whistle, the teams move: Shauna passes the ball to Mari, in a fake attempted attack from right, trying to get past Taissa, the ball is passed to Laura Lee who has already run across the field enough to not be worried about Taissa. The only obstacles left between her and the goal are Lottie and Van. The latter won't be a problem, when Laura will kick the ball from the underside angle, sending it to the far corner of the net; the real problem is Lottie. The girl is tall and strong enough to turn the situation to her favor and virtually leave Laura's and the rest of the team empty handed. And, to top it all off, she's on fire today. So, Laura Lee devises a plan: as soon as Lottie will corner her, she will fall back and kick the ball as high as she can, attempting to send it through the net. Lottie will not budge, she thinks, -"She is too smart to fall for this..."- but she will at least attempt to try.

Lottie has stayed still until now, determined to be the one to stop her teammates. Her muscles tighten, ready to strike, until her attention is on someone else, someone on the seats.

There are quite a few people here besides you and your friends. They had invited you to watch the Yellowjackets practice, more in particular to watch the Yellowjackets practice. You have sat in the nearest line to the field, wanting to crawl out of your seat whenever one of your friends made a loud remark about one of the girls. "Like, oh my God look at Natalie '' Hayley sighs dreamily, "I want to make sexy pottery with her '' Jessica scoffs at her "Say what you want about Natalie. Have you looked at coach Ben? He is so hot!" she says while twirling a strand of her hair. "I think he's gay Jessica..." she gasps "How would you know? The other day I saw him handing to Travis a bunch of condoms, he must like girls!", "That's not how it works Jessica..." you argue with her "Shut up," she scoffs at you. You turn your head away from her to avoid her anger, looking towards the field as you see number seven -Lottie, that must be her name- moving in position to defend the net. "...and how would you know? Your life is so boring, you never even had a relationship yet!"eyes scanning her face up and down, you look at Jessica ``I haven't but at least I don't drool for every human beginning in school" you remark at her, earning a glare that could kill.

"Shut up! Stupid asshole..." your eyes return to the soccer field, now focused back on the players: you see Lottie staring at you, her eyes never leaving yours even for a split second, you and your friends must've been loud for her attention to be on anything else other than practice. Neither you or her break eye contact, both in an almost hypnotic state, so, neither you or her notice Laura Lee screaming out for her teammate.

The second Lottie refocuses back on the game, the ball hits her face at full speed; Lottie stumbles back holding her nose, blood flowing freely from it, she loses her footing and falls on the ground. "Fuuuck!'' The team rushes to their friend, Laura Lee is profusely apologizing while trying to hold her best friend who isn't in the right mood to be manhandled. Coach Ben kneels next to Lottie and inspects her face: on the bridge of the nose, right where the ball has hit her, Lottie has a small red bump and her nose seems to be slightly pushed to the left side. "We need to take the infirmary..." he states and helps Lottie up, before Misty can get her hands on her classmate's face and cause more damage. She walks back with Ben with shame, and when she looks back to see you worried over her, she can't bring herself to look at you.

At the infirmary, she gets a pack of cold ice and after one hour, the nurse, a middle aged old woman who looks like she's done with life, walks over to her and takes away the ice pack. Her hands move and test around Lottie's nose, manhandling her -she looks like a small scared child-. "Take a deep breath with your mouth...", she's confused as hell but does so, feeling the nurse's hands move again on her nose, "...and don't panic". -What?- the nurse's fingers block her nose and push strongly to the right side, readjusting the bone. Lottie lets out a banshee-like scream "Fuck me!" and she hold her face, muffling her scream in her hands, "Don't move too much or you could crook it again". Her fingers move across the nose skin, it definitely hurts but now she can breathe again: the nose still has a small red bump at the middle of its length. "Yeah, that's not going away", the nurse says while arranging some things in a box, "What?".

Her father had wanted to sue both the nurse and Laura Lee's family as soon as he saw how his daughter's nose looked, but with some convincing, Lottie had managed to make his anger drop. Today, some time after the whole fiasco, Shauna has come to pick her up for school, usually she would use her father's limo but today she felt like beginning with a friend -and exploiting her a bit- than with the old decrepit driver her father hired. As soon as she enter Shauna's car, the other girl lets out a small pained hiss at Lottie's nose. "...Is it that noticeable...?", Shauna let's out a small hum and moves uncomfortably under Lottie's dark gaze. "I mean... I see it because I was there, but it's not tha-" Shauna is interrupted by Lottie's frustrated sigh and cries. "God! This is just what I needed..." she mutters into her hand, Shauna drops her hand on her friend's shoulder "Come on...It's not that bad, no one will notice". Lottie moves to look at Shauna, her eyes are tearful, "That's literally the first thing you noticed about me today". A gulp travels down Shauna's throat "Uhm..." the taller girl looks her dead in the eyes "This is the part where you, as a friend, would comfort me". The car engine starts, Shauna lets out a embarassed cough while she starts to move the car "...Let's go".

"Ouch..." Taissa says to her while munching her sandwich, the whole soccer team is in the cafeteria for lunch, Lottie had been the last one to join the team 'cause her classes ended later, of course that would involve her not-so-glorious entrance in the room, where everyone had looked at her weird or with pity. "Laura Lee hasn't come today...She's feeling pretty guilty for what she's done. I think this will stay inside her little fanatic brain for a while" Taissa laughs while exchanging a kiss with Van, "And she's right. If I were you, Lottie, I would have punched her in the face ages ago" Natalie barges in the conversation. "Changing topic, tonight there's a party. At Randy's' ' the blonde girl mutters while focused on rolling something that Lottie is pretty sure isn't a normal cig, "I don't know if I'll be there... I don't feel really good". Natalie lets out a scoff, momentarily messing up her rolling before continuing again, "Come on Lottie, It's only a party. Besides, your 'little incident' is not that visible ''. Taissa stares at Natalie with a look that says 'Really?' , "Geez, how about some fucking decency Natalie?" she spats out receiving a roll of eyes from the other girl "The point is, going to a party won't be that big of a deal". Everyone seems to turn to Lottie, waiting for her response, "...Ok".

Night has come, and with it, Lottie's uneasiness. The party had proved to be a lot more crowded than she imagined, it was packed with people who were beginning to drink by the time the Yellowjackets had come. Jackie had placed her hand on Lottie's shoulder, stroking it reassuringly "Don't worry Lottie, we won't go anywhere" and for a split second, Lottie had believed her and smiled reproaching the smile, before she had looked away -for one fucking second-, and all of her team had left to so their things: Taissa and Van had two red cups in their hands and were flirting to one angle of the room, Jackie had blindedly followed Jeff somewhere with Shauna trailing behind her and Natalie was gone to God knows where, probably doing drugs with those toxics of her friends. So, as she had been sure all this time, Lottie was alone. A sigh escaped her lips, her brows furrowing in annoyance and creating a small wrinkle between them, and worry showing in her eyes. She makes a bee line to the kitchen, finding it almost empty except for a drunk couple in one of the dark corners; on the table amidst all the discarded red cups and leftover foods, sits a clear glass bowl of red-blood punch with some ice and a slice of orange floating in. Lottie takes one of the clean cups and fills it to the brim with alcohol. She drinks her worries away feeling the liquid heat her from within, before she knows she has gulped down half of it. Her hands search for her cigarettes in her jeans pocket, finding only a few left: taking one she holds it between her lips but realizes she has forgotten her lighter at home, "As if this night couldn't be any worse...".

When you walk into the kitchen, you see the same girl who yesterday almost got half of her face blown off -Lottie, you remind yourself-.

She's dressed in high waisted dark gray jeans, a long sleeved black shirt and a pair of glasses which made her look far more nerdy than she might have intended. "Oh, hi!" she turns around so quickly that some of the liquid spills out of the cup and pours on her fingers, but she doesn't seem to care all that much, all her attention is on you. "H-Hi...!". Walking over to her, you smile "You are Lottie right? You got pretty hurt some time ago, huh?", gulping down dryly her eyes focused on your lips resting on the cup ridge "Uhhhh, uh, ehm, yes yeas, yeah that's me...". Eyes hazy and unfocused, she doesn't hear you calling out for her "...ttie. Lottie? Earth calls to Lottie, are you there?" she jolts up a second, straighten her spine and avoids to look you in the eye. "Uh, yeah I'm here, just a little distracted" her throat clears and she lets out a small laugh. You look at her, you notice the way she seems to be around you: gone is the confident jock from the soccer team, all that's left of her is a girl who's too shy to talk without stuttering every few seconds. "Say, would you like to get to know each other?" her throat clears before she nods her head slightly with a little smile. "So, what do you like to do, you know, besides soccer?" you lean on the table while sipping on the punch, "Well, I like partying, usually, and -you know- soccer is all my life. I play the guitar sometimes..." your gasp interrupts her, "You'll have to let me hear something one day!". Lottie tells you more about her life: she tells you about her father and mother, about how she's always alone in that big cold house of hers, about how she likes the soccer team a lot -except Jackie sometimes- and of her love for teen dramas, especially Dawson's Creek.

The alcohol starts to make your body heat, she looks so good under dimmed lights; you sip down the last drops of the alcohol and throw the empty cup on the table, slightly scaring Lottie. "Would you like to dance?" her eyes move to yours and shakes her head in approval "Of course!" you take her cup and set it on the table, placing your hand on hers and leading her to the living room.

The room is lit by red light, the music is so loud it makes her heart jump in her chest, but Lottie can barely hear it over the loud beating of her heart in her ears. You get close to her body and feel its heat, how her skin shivers when you touch her a little too long and how she can't even place her shaky hands on you. Everything is slow, heated, the red lights paint Lottie in a way you haven't seen before; you lock eyes with her and for a moment, you feel the need to kiss her, even if you have known her only for a few hours. You get closer to her, so much so that you can feel the raspiness of her breath when you eye her lips. It isn't surprising then when, in the euphoria you're both experiencing, you don't hear the heavy steps of someone getting closer to you.

You get yanked from Lottie's grip, someone spins you around until you've met with his face again. "What the fuck are you doing?!" he snaps at you, his brows are furrowed and he looks even more of a rabid dog than when you left him. "Hello Brandon..." he grips your arms tighter, bruising your skin underneath; his breath is on your face,reeking of alcohol. "Hello'? What the fuck are you doing with this bitch?!" he starts to tug you around, all the while continuing to spit in your face insults.

As soon as he lets go of you Lottie reaches out and manhandles you behind her; a stern look appears on her face. "Hey, what's your problem?" she looks him up and down, studying him "My problem is you, and people like you" he spats out. "Like me?" she can feel her blood pressure rising, his implication not missed by Lottie.

Brandon's friends are near him, some giggle but others are trying to hold him down from exploding further. "Yeah, people like you and this bitch over here" he gestures at you with a nod, he seems to get even more red than he was before, almost looking rabid, "What the fuck are you talking about?".

Brandon seems to have been pushed over the edge, a wild look in his eyes, he sweats and screams on Lottie's face "You fucking faggots! You gross shit! Scum like you shouldn't even exist!" people are gathering now near, the music seems to almost have gone silent, flashes and giggles surround you. Lottie grips your hand tight, so tight that it hurts, "Lottie..." she turns around, her other hand placed on your hip and starts to lead you out of the party.

"Let's go" her voice wavering: for a split second, she saw her father spilling insults at her after she had told what she really was. "Yeah you better go! We don't want disgusting shits like you around here" Brandon is held back by his friends when he attempts to chase after you.

Through her clouded mind, Lottie doesn't miss Brandon's next words "You aren't even that good at soccer, I bet your father is really proud of his shitty disgusting lizzie daughter". Lottie feels her knuckles crush bone beneath them, and regains her consciousness, realizing she had punched Brandon right on the nose, in the exact same way she was hit the day's priors. He falls on his ass in the middle of his friend group, spurting insults and imprecations at you and Lottie. Before you can look at him, you're tugged out of the party. You run with Lottie, both with the fear that he might get out of his friend's grapes and follow you; you run across the small patch of woods just outside of Randy's house.

The night is lit by countless stars in the sky, wind blows through the trees and inside of your heart an euphoric feeling blooms. When you end up at the other side of the trees, in a clearance, you start to laugh at your heart's content; your laugh is so contagious that it starts to affect Lottie too -who previously was looking at you like you were mad- making her let out chuckles of her own.

You hold on to her, much like you did when you were at the party, she hides her face into your neck while still giggling: you start to notice the position you're in, her breath hitches when she notices how close you are and -more importantly- where her face is. Dark eyes reflect the night sky, she looks at you with something akin to adoration for a second, before she composes herself and let go of you, clearing her throat. "So ummm... who was that guy?" you rethink about the events of the night and -trying not to think- about how good Lottie looks right now. "He was my ex-boyfriend. He has been going a bit crazy since I broke up with him. I told him I... liked girls and he has been bothering me ever since I left him" Lottie let's out a small 'oh' of approval, taking in all that you said. "So... you like girls" she hums in thought; you inadvertently let out a laugh "Of course! I thought it was pretty obvious from how I was looking at you". Her face becomes beet red -'Shit, I looked so stupid! Why did I asked that?!'-, she scratches the back of her head while averting your gaze. Her hand is held by yours, she follows your movement and when she turns around, she's met with your lips on hers. She can't move the lips back, too stunned by your action to reciprocate the kiss but just when you thought of pulling away -'maybe she doesn't like me'- you feel her hands cupping your cheeks and deepening the kiss. -'Whoa... sparks...'- she thinks while deepening the kiss even more, it feels like millions of little light sparks shine on you and her. She's so close you can barely breathe, the air itself feels intoxicating, this is just too good to be true. When you pull away, both of you are blushing and messy, she looks amazing under the moonlight: hair messy, glasses slightly sliding to the side, skin so red and eyes watery. "Wow... this feels very... romantic..." she sighs into your neck, holding your chest to hers "We should do this more often..." you kiss her again, giddy, holding onto her neck "We definitely should!".

Something moves in the bushes rapidly, making both of you jolt up in fear that your ex might've catched up, Lottie is already ready to throw another punch, just when from the darkness between the trees, the Yellowjackets appear, all of them. "G-God!" an echo of 'oooh's' rise up from the group, Van begins the lead of them "Oh so that's what you were doing Lottie! We feared you got into a fight!". Van gets closer to you two, throwing her arm around Lottie's shoulders "Are you gonna introduce your 'friend' to us?", the taller girl puffs out a breath in annoyance "Oh fuck off!".

#yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets x you #yellowjackets fic #lottie mathews x reader #lottie matthews x reader #lottie matthews x you #fluff fic

[emwritesstuff]

DYNAMO | Steve Rogers x Reader | part 1.

HYDRA has made their share of human experiments. You're just one of them. One of the least successful ones. One of the least functional ones. At least your life in the facility gave you a few things: unwavering resilience, cool(ish) superpowers and a great sense of humor. Steve Rogers would strongly disagree with that last one. A single chance encounter with him reluctantly brings you into the Avengers Compound, and you're determined to make his life as miserable as you can. Feeling's mutual.

AO3 | Masterlist | Playlist (coming soon!)

notes: starting off a steve x reader/oc that I had lying around for a long time to cleanse our palates. (warnings: mentions of human experimentation, violence, cursing, stressed!steve rogers) (2.5K words)

1: THE CATALYST

In The Adventure of the Dying Detective, sir Arthur Conan Doyle wrote: “I wonder how a battery feels when it pours electricity into a non-conductor.”

Well here’s how she feels, Doyle: exhausted – drained, if we’re getting scientific – and with a massive migraine. Sometimes nosebleeds, too. That’s how you feel whenever you use your abilities. It’s never a good time, and lately it’s been getting worse.

That’s why you’re back in this godforsaken place. Not exactly back. You’ve never been here; this specific facility was basically only an archive of sorts, and when you were still HYDRA you were confined to labs and larger, safer bases.

This place is really under everyone’s nose. It sits under a parking building in Detroit, right at the corner of a busy avenue. It’s a smart choice of location, because amidst the bustle of people coming and going for their cars, nobody looked at you twice as you went in, dropped into a maintenance hatch and ambled around until you found the heavy vaulted door you were looking for.

You’re positive there’s some information about you and the experiment you were a part – the shining star, truly – of, in here. When HYDRA fell and all of its secrets were leaked to the internet, you weren’t very worried about backing up your own records. You just wanted to live.

When you’ve spent most of your life being trained and turned into a human weapon, only ever seeing the real-world during the few missions you’ve gone on, places like McDonald’s and department stores become a whole new world of wonders once you get to experience them.

But now you needed them. Soon after the fall, however, most of the data was erased by hackers that were still affiliated with the organization. Lucky you.

However, every good terrorist knows to keep physical copies for safekeeping. And if the manila files stamped with your name were anywhere, they had to be here. Or in at least 3 other places just like this one, but you had already checked the first couple of them, and the other was blown to shit by Tony Stark and his little avenging friends.

They were really very good at that – blowing things up and causing havoc everywhere they went. Aliens, HYDRA, murderous crazed robots – whatever the enemy might be, something was sure to be exploding. And in the end, they’re still revered as heroes. Must be fun.

Anyway. Back to the files.

There’s immensurable amount of them, and they were meticulously organized, thank god, but you still decide you’d go through each one just in case.

You’re not in Assets. Also not in Agents. Or Work in progress.

Either way, it has to be here somewhere. Just maybe misplaced. Or concealed.

This place is basically your last hope, before you’re obligated to hunt down the hackers you know of and squeeze the information out of them instead. One of them has to have kept a copy somewhere, but these people were hard to find, and you are starting to feel like you’re running out of time.

The migraines and nosebleeds are getting more frequent, lasting longer, and hurting more. Not to mention the amount of times you lost control and fried every electronic on the vicinity. You could walk into a hospital, but that would probably mean getting dragged to the Raft as soon as the American government took notice of your existence.

And you seriously doubt any regular doctor would know how to deal with… whatever is going on with you.

You don’t miss your former life at all – but at least the scientists and doctors in HYDRA kept you somewhat stable. You survived this far, so someone is to blame.

It must be the adrenaline, but right now you feel great. No spots, no headache. Bouncing on your heels, bobbing your head to the music on your earbuds, while you rummage through an ocean of paper. The archive has been long abandoned, a thick layer of dust covering every surface you hadn’t touched. It’s dead quiet, too, and you start thinking you might spend the night.

It’s been a while since you’ve rested your head in a quiet place, where you didn’t have to look over your shoulder every two minutes. Yeah, that’d be fucking nice.

You’ve been on the run for god knows how long. In fact, you do know – it’s been a little over a couple of years since the public downfall of HYDRA, and everyone you used to know was either arrested, dead, or had gone underground like the rats they were.

You like to distance yourself from your former peers, mostly because if you knew they were all a bunch of Nazis – or if anyone had told you they were actually the bad guys – you probably would have found a way out sooner. Imagine your surprise, finally being free to live in the real world and finding out that everything you’ve been taught was fabricated. Still, authorities weren’t about to make that distinction so, like a HYDRA rat, you also went off the grid.

It’s safe to say you don’t really trust people these days.

You hate it, having to live in hiding. You’re not really very good at it, to be honest. It’s hard being coy, and you wear your heart on your sleeve; your face betrays you when your lack of skill for lying doesn’t. Half-truths and misdirection are the only things keeping your anonymity intact lately, and it works as long as you lower social interaction down to almost zero.

Having to decide whoever looks like they would ask the least amount of questions is exhausting. So is dodging those questions. Dodging bullets is easier. You’d backflip your way out of a full cartridge before facing a 10-minute conversation with someone.

You huff in frustration. The dust that now swirls in the air makes your eyes dry and your nose itch, you’ve already been through what’s probably a good fifty files and still, you found nothing. Not even a mention to your name or your identification number.

You scratch their faint marks on your forearm absentmindedly.

It should be here.

You’re starting to get a little offended, even.

“Can’t find what you’re looking for?”

A male voice coming from the door gets you to stand in alarm. Its owner is tall and wears a navy tactical suit, and you can make out his striking blue eyes even in the dim light of the room. He’s carrying a shield, painted in red, white and blue.

You stare at Captain America, and he stares back. He’s blocking the door you entered from. From your earlier survey you know there’s a possible exit to your left, but you doubt you can get there before that oversized dinner plate of his slices you in half.

“Who are you?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, Cap.”

He scowls at you and you give him a smile, a crooked thing that makes you look a little crazy. “Are you HYDRA? Nat— Yes. We got company.”

So, he came with a team. Cute. Just like the comics.

“Used to be, technically. I’m done with that life.”

He cocks his head. His gaze pierces through you like laser sight.

Now there’s someone you don’t want to be trapped in a conversation with.

“So why are you here?”

You sigh. Too many questions, not enough fucking off to wherever sunny green fields he lives with his superhero friends in.

“I must’ve left my library card in here somewhere. You’d think no one would care that much about Tolstoy, but they do.” 

“Do you really think this is the time for jokes, agent?”

You watch him as he tightens his hand around his shield, and moves his feet towards you a few inches. “Ah ah – I wouldn’t do that.”

He takes another step, and you narrow your eyes.

“I don’t feel like fighting today, so. Don’t.”

“Aren’t you done with the life? You shouldn’t be considering me your enemy.”

“Do you rehearse those lines or what?”

Cap clenches his jaw. It brings you a strange kind of satisfaction to annoy him. A small victory, knowing you can get to him like that.

Yet you still feel like you’re a gazelle being hounded by a lion.

There’s still a considerable distance between you, but you know he’s strong and fast, stronger and faster than you, especially when you haven’t trained properly in so long.

And Captain America hates HYDRA. He wouldn’t hesitate in kicking your ass.

“This doesn’t have to end in a fight. Come with me, and share your intel.” He puts his shield down, and you furrow your eyebrows.

He’s wrong. It always ends in a fight. That’s just how the world works.

“You might even get a lighter sentence.”

Of course. That’s what this was about: you giving them everything you know and then getting locked up. As a treat.

“I’ll pass. I do value my freedom, I’m sure you’ll understand. Considering.”

Gesturing vaguely to his outfit, you dip down to continue rummaging through the next box of files, even finding one with the 2006-7 New Year’s Eve Party planning, but nothing about your program. Priorities.

“I can’t let you walk out of this. I’m sure you’ll understand, considering.”

You snicker.

So much for having a good day with no headache.

On the wall to your left there’s an outlet. You put your hand over it, and the electric current floats towards your palm as if it was liquid. The lights start to flicker.

“What—” You hear Captain America stammer, and you chuckle. So blissfully ignorant.

He has no idea of the freak of nature you are. Well, not really of nature. You’re more of a synthetic made kind of freak.

More energy flows into you, and the room goes dark. You rise to your feet and watch electricity crackle around your fingers, illuminating your face with a blue glow. You don’t see the Captain anymore, but you do see the glint of the shield as it’s being lifted up.

You’re sure he sees you, but he’s probably too stunned trying to process what you just did.

“Apologies in advance.”

When you extend your arms in front of you, palms aiming to the spot where you think he might be, you can’t see much.

After power flashes out of you, everything is clearer. The bolts light up the space between you and him, much narrower than you calculated, and you have to adjust your position so you can hit him.

He gurgles and shakes like a fish out of water once it reaches him, blinding blue and white encasing his body like a cocoon. He drops to the ground.

It feels like hot water in your veins until it’s burning.

It hurts, it hurts like a bitch, and as Captain America is convulsing on the floor your groans turn to wails. You haven’t done this in a while, and you forgot how much pain there is when the fuel starts running out.

You stop after a few seconds, dropping your hands at your sides, and stumble into a metal shelf when your balance falters. You could never stand using your powers for very long. But this time you don’t have to. Cap is immobile on the floor, only his eyelids twitching. Maybe you went a little hard on him.

You’d feel more sorry if he didn’t want to arrest you.

At least he’s alive. That’s something.

You taste something ferulic and wet when you lick your lips. Nosebleed.

One. Two. Three.

Your heat starts throbbing, and suddenly even the dim light is too much on your eyes.

There’s the migraine.

You were almost returning to your search when you hear the faint voices coming from his intercom. Cap? Rogers, over. Steve, you there? Over.

Rogers groans, starting to stir up. You had to get out of there, and fast, before the rest of his friends came to the rescue.

Fuck it, you could always come back another time. Or even go after those hackers already, because you doubted this place would be up for much longer, now that the Avengers knew of its existence.

You wipe your nose on the sleeve of your hoodie, grab your backpack and slip through the left exit, leaving America there to deal with his own future headache.

It took a while for Steve Rogers to recover his senses. He gained control of his eyes first, finding himself staring at a humidity stained ceiling. His extremities were tingling, and his insides felt like soup.

The burning sensation on the surface of his skin subsides after a while. His heart is racing, and he can’t really remember the last time that happened. Or why. Right now, it’s because he just got attacked by a human defibrillator.

Steve? What’s going on, Cap? Over.

He needs a minute to realize the voices are in his earpiece, and not hallucinations in his head.

I’m starting to worry, Rogers. Over.

He groans, rolling over. “M’ here. Over.”

Steve hoists himself up, thinking the girl must’ve fried his pain receptors, because his toenails hurt. And his earlobes, and his right leg. He shakes his head as if his ears have water in them.

She’s gone. For a second, he even doubts she was there at all, but there are footprints on the dusty floor, leading all the way to a door on his right.

Who—?

“Damn, you look rough.”

“What the hell happened?”

Natasha Romanoff and Bucky Barnes show up through the same hallway he had come from earlier.

“I—I got electrocuted, I think.”

“You think?!”

Steve picks up the shield, panting.

“There was a— girl. She’s some kind of enhanced. Can’t have gone far. I’ll explain later.”

His body regains its normal functions as he’s trudging through empty corridors, Bucky and Nat at his heels. He still feels a little frazzled, but it could be worse, and he’s thankful it was him and his serum-improved body at the receiving end of the lightning.

It could be so much worse.

As it turns out, the girl is nowhere to be found, not a trace to be followed even after the trio splits up to cover more ground. Bucky insists Steve needs to be checked at the med bay ASAP. Natasha assures him that they’ll clear out the facility afterwards, even if she’s convinced none of the paper files have anything of relevance anymore.

The girl seemed to be looking for something in there, though, and Steve remembers reading frustration and dread on her wide, doe-like eyes.

She didn’t even look like someone who could be an agent, though due to the too-large hoodie she wore there wasn’t much to analyze anyway. That gets him intrigued.

Steve has a hard time letting go of things. Especially open-ended things. He spent nearly two weeks obsessing over the ending of Blade Runner, because he needed a goddamned definitive answer.

He needs to know, like he needed to know if Deckard was human or replicant.

He’ll find her.

You can’t shake the feeling that you’ll be seeing him and his team again. Maybe they’ll hunt you down, since there was a big demand for ex-HYDRA people they could fill jailcells with.

Whisking away along a maze of corridors and endless doors, you manage to find a second vaulted door. You leave the whole facility undetected, hopping out a window and disappearing in a back alley.

Maybe you are a rat.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fic #enemies to lovers #emwrites

[mariaofdoranelle]

Why are you at the wake?

AO3 link

THIS ISN’T ANGSTY, this title is just a product of the Taylor Swift-fication of my life. It’s a fluffy funeral fic you just have to trust me on this.

Fun fact: While I was writing this oneshot and after all the details had already been set, my real life weirdly well-off former math teacher was arrested by the federal police for drug trafficking and money laundering. What are the odds, right? Now I wish I had worked a little more on Arobynn, but this is already too long. I hope you like it!

Word count: 5,2k

TW: NSFW, mentions of death, swear words.

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Rowan was at the funeral of the most despicable man he had ever met when he saw his old high school friend bawling her eyes out. At first he thought it was a mirage. He hadn’t seen Aelin in four years and his brain had decided a small amount of psychosis would be the way to go. But after staring openly and receiving a polite nudge from his uncle, Rowan had decided it was probably Aedion with longer hair. Except that Aedion didn’t have boobs. And then Rowan’s face flushed. He shouldn’t be looking at his friend’s breasts, specially at a funeral. Were they friends still?

While everyone meant to leave for the wake, Rowan just realized he never even took his coat off. He shook hands, nodded, and stared at Aelin. That was it. When Aelin first saw him, at the beginning of the ceremony, her eyes were so wide it looked comical. But them she gave him a closed-lip smile and went back to mourning Arobynn Hamel.

As Rowan walked, following his uncle’s trail, he scrambled his mind trying to find a reasonable answer for the fourth time today.

Fact check number four: (1) Aelin was on his high school friend group; (2) he had a crush on her for the entirety of those four years and was very drawn to her sense of humor, which wouldn’t be important if; (3) they had bonded a lot over hating Mr. Hamel, their math teacher; (4) until Aelin left to Torre Cesme to become a doctor.

The only reason Rowan himself was there was because his uncle, the school principal, wanted the company. Maybe he should feel guilty about not feeling anything towards his very dead creepy old teacher who spent months at the hospital before dying, but he didn’t. The only thing he felt now was worry because Aelin was sobbing and fondness because her nose looked so cute when she cried, like a tiny cherry tomato.

Now that they were at the wake and there was no minister to pretend to pay attention to, Rowan went directly to his friend, crying alone in a corner.

“Long time no see,” he greeted with a small smile. But when she looked up, Aelin was beaming at him. All of a sudden, it was like her reaction to seeing him had disarranged all of Rowan’s organs at once. He felt like his insides were made of molten gold. He couldn’t believe he was used to see this on a daily basis four years ago.

“I’ve missed you.” And then she squeezed his hand, making his whole arm tingle.

“I didn’t know you were in town.”

Aelin blushed. “I’ve only told my family, but I’m moving back.” Rowan probably did a terrible job at hiding his shock, because she was quick to explain, “I’m not giving up on being a doctor, I’ll just continue everything here in Orynth.” He couldn’t muster much apart from his blinking, so she just grimaced and muttered, “I’ve been here the whole summer. I’m sorry I didn’t let you and the gang know. I’ve been busy.”

Rowan nodded. “How did you know about Mr. Hamel?”

“I got in a summer internship at Orynth General, I saw him there twice, I think.” Rowan didn’t know what to say, so she just elbowed him and asked, “How’s the Little Folk?”

That was a low blow, considering where they were at. Aelin insisted on making Little Folk jokes ever since he decided to become a forest engineer, and she knew he would always try not to smile at them and fail miserably. “Very cranky. Apparently, the new president is shit. They miss Brannon and Mala terribly,” he joked back with a straight face, but then they were both giggling in the middle of Arobynn Hamel’s wake. Their voices weren’t even loud, but it was enough to make them stick out above the quiet conversation and weeping in the room.

A few moments after they sobered up, Rowan’s uncle brought them a plate with snacks as a cover up to give him a reproaching look and stay by his side once again, now along with two other teachers, Deji Ytger and Clarisse DuVency.

When Mr. Ytger was telling them one of his stories about Arobynn Hamel, Aelin eyed the now half-eaten snack plate with watered eyes and placed a mini sausage on the palm on her hand, croaking, “Oh, Arobynn!” before starting to sob again. Oh God, did she and Mr. Hamel? No, it couldn’t be. While Rowan stared at her wide-eyed once again, Mr. Ytger had one hand covering his mouth and a shaking upper body, definitely trying not to laugh. When he couldn’t control it anymore, he started to fake coughing to at least pretend he wasn’t laughing at the wake. In the meanwhile, his uncle was fake-assisting Mr. Ytger with his sudden coughing fit, and Ms. DuVency was shooting daggers at Aelin. The only good explanation he had for that would be jealousy, but Rowan wouldn’t have it. There had to be another reason. The Aelin he knew wouldn’t. Right?

Felling a surge of protection towards his visibly shaken friend, Rowan put a hand on her shoulder, stroking it with his finger. “Come on, Fireheart. We’re leaving.” This environment was upsetting her too much. She needed fresh air. Chocolate hazelnut cake. Play with dogs. Aelin was biting her lip, probably debating an answer, when Clarisse DuVency decided to interfere.

“So soon?”

Aelin sniffed and answered, “This is too much, I need to leave.”

Clarisse rolled her eyes and turned to Rowan. “I don’t recall your name.”

“Rowan, I used to be one of his students.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Arobynn never mentioned yourself to me.” He wouldn’t mention or even remember every one of his students, but Rowan didn’t feel like pointing it out. The woman’s thoughts must be clouded with grief now. Thankfully, Aelin was quick to fix the misunderstanding.

“Don’t mind him. He’s accompanying Mr. Whitethorn.”

The older woman sighed. “I don’t care. Thanks for coming.” Aelin shook hands with Clarisse and tuck them back in her pockets, but let Rowan guide her towards the exit with a hand on her back. The middle part. Aelin was grieving, lower back touches would be borderline disrespectful. Rowan wasn’t even minding his now apparently eight-year-old minor crush on her. Aelin was upset, and Rowan’s job was to fix it. Just like he used to do back in high school.

Mr. Ytger offered to give uncle Ellys a ride home before anyone could even ask, and off they went.

Aelin had cheered up even before they got to her favorite patisserie, and Rowan was glad. She always had that lively, dazzling personality, it would be a shame losing it after this death. Arobynn fucking Hamel. He was still puzzled about it, but she didn’t need that kind of inquisition now. After buying two slices of chocolate hazelnut cake for Aelin, he took her to his house to pack a picnic bag and go to the park nearby.

“Fuck! This place is huge. I had no idea the Little Folk payed so well.” Rowan blushed. It certainly looked bigger because it was completely white and bare, but he wasn’t going to correct her.

“It was my parents’s. Uncle Ellys used to rent it for my college savings ever since they died. I just moved in.” Uncle Ellys had gifted him a fridge, and their cousins Sellene and Enda gave him a microwave. Apart from the mattress he had bought online, that was all the furniture he had. Aelin didn’t seem to mind it, though.

“Do you plan to rent these rooms to a fuckton of people?”

“Not if can help it, no.”

Aelin sighed. “It doesn’t surprise me that you’re the first real grown up from our friend group.” Rowan didn’t feel like reminding her he didn’t own a couch. Or a stove. Instead, he grinned at her, teasing.

“Oh, you don’t know half of it.”

She looked radiant with a wide grin and sparkling eyes. “Tell me!”

He grinned back. “Lorcan has a ring.” Aelin’s mouth fell open, but she quickly put on her teasing smirk.

“Oh, you don’t know the other half of it.” Rowan raised his eyebrows and it was enough to make her continue, “Elide is ten weeks pregnant.”

Rowan just blinked at her, trying to think of something to say. Until he quietly beamed, “Wow.” He was surprised, but not so much. Rowan knew Elide had been Lorcan’s whole world since they were sixteen, this was just a matter of time. He was thrilled for his friends, but Rowan couldn’t help feeling a little bit of jealousy. Rowan was living on a four-bedroom house with no prying cousins, no chaotic dinners, no loud dogs. After spending years wishing he could have a quiet home to himself, he kind of missed all that mess. Every night, Rowan laid uncomfortably at night because he always forgot to buy himself anything capable of controlling his houses’s temperature, and when he looked at his empty room with a throat too thick and chest too heavy, at least one of his cousins were up to tell him about aunt Maeve’s current fights with the neighbors or what Sellene’s kids were up to. Rowan wasn’t prepared for a bride ready to fill his new house with children, but it would be nice to have prospects of a healthy romantic life. He even thought about asking Fenrys to come live with him for the company, but Rowan didn’t feel like staining his parent’s place with his friend’s orgies and parades of women. And men. Non-binary people too.

Aelin was watching him with rapt attention. When he gave her his attention back, her eyes had a certain glow as she muttered, “I know, right?”

Rowan swallowed and led her to the kitchen. “So, for park snacks we have cheese, fruit, a six-pack-“

Something made her cackle at him, and just the sound of her laughter warmed up Rowan’s whole body, making him wear a silly grin in return. “Buzzard, it’s pouring outside. I don’t think the park is our better option now.” He was so glad she still remembered his old nickname it took him a second to process the information. When he looked at the window, it was raining so much it was impossible to even look through it. And sounded like the roof would fall anytime soon too, but Rowan was so focused on Aelin’s laugh and sunshine-colored hair and lemon verbena scent that he didn’t notice it was pelting down outside. He sighed.

“Do you want me to drop you home or—“

“Absolutely not. I’m not giving up on our picnic date so easily,” she chimed. Wait. Did she say it was a date? Rowan’s mind was too fuzzy by her presence, he must’ve imagined it. She was crying on Arobynn Hamel’s funeral an hour ago, for Mala’s sake. Rowan needed to get a grip.

He didn’t have a basket, but Aelin helped him arrange a few plates with food. Then Rowan put a blanket in his living room and they sat against the wall. It was hard to ignore the tingling where Aelin’s shoulder bumped on his. For a moment he gave a mental heads up to teenage Rowan, he was so much better at ignoring his feelings.

“So. I guess you didn’t like Antica?”

She sighed. “I’d find it the perfect city to spend a few weeks, but I missed Terrasen. Terribly. The place and the people. When you go live on your own, there’s a lot of talk about the new things to do and places to see, but no one warns you about how lonely it can get. I made a few friends, but it didn’t ease much.” Rowan never lived abroad, but he could relate to it in his own way. He would never judge her for coming back. In fact, he was happy she had the guts to do it.

“That means you left the best medical program in the world to... the third best?” Aelin was completely obsessed with these rankings back in high school, he hoped he got it right.

She mock-groaned. “Fourth. Fenharrow got the 3rd spot last year. Can you believe it?”

He was so fucking proud of her. “Well, 4th won’t do. Your parents must be so disappointed in you.” She knew he knew Rhoe and Evalin would be elated even if she was studying at the last school in the ranking, so they just chuckled. “You’re amazing, Aelin.”

“I know,” she answered with a smirk. “What I don’t know,” she lazily continued, “Is what you do for a living.”

Rowan bit his lip. Making people fully understand what he did for a living within a few words was still a challenge to him. “I work for the police.” The tilt of her head and furrowed eyebrows wasn’t an unfamiliar response to this. “It works best if I give you an example. Last week some guy’s roof fell. But it turns out it was from illegal logging, so they called me and—“

“Fuck, you’re a tree cop!” This was exactly how Sellene explained it to her children, and he didn’t really like it, but Aelin’s mouth was ajar and her gorgeous turquoise eyes were enormous from excitement, so yes. He was a tree cop.

“That was just a common example, but yes. Kind of, actually.”

“Okay, then. Tell me what happened with illegal roof guy.” Rowan gazed at Aelin, doing a double take on her. Her body was tilted towards him, her eyes seemed to wait for him to continue. Rowan was completely conscious that he was probably the only person who found his job interesting, but he didn’t really mind it. He had planned to spare Aelin from the very exciting boring details, but she was the one asking for more, right?

And off he went on the case, Rowan telling her all about how his analysis were helping the police work on this. What surprised him was that she seemed really interested and even interrupted him to ask questions sometimes. A lot of times he felt her gaze on his mouth, but he didn’t want to read too much into it. His living room had no furniture or decorations, it wasn’t like she had much spots to look at. He’d just swallow or look at the white pillars and beams.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you talk this much at once. Tree anatomy is something else to you, isn’t it?” A comment like that would be enough to make Rowan self-conscious, but Aelin’s tone of voice was warm, and she had a smile so big it was reaching her eyes. But something shifted when she lifted her chin and he could do nothing but shiver when her lips parted and she licked them. Rowan felt all of the hair from the nape of his neck rise when her tentative hands landed on his cheeks, one before the other, but he couldn’t do this. It didn’t matter that he’d wanted to do this for eight years, he wouldn’t be the guy that picked a girl up at a funeral and took advantage of her grief. Teenage Rowan was pretty disgusting, but he’d agree with grown-up Rowan on this.

He gently cupped Aelin’s hands with his own, stopping her caresses. “Don’t touch me like that.”

“Oh.” Her hand dropped like they were on fire. Her face reddened like it too. “I’m sorry. Um. I didn’t mean—“

“It’s just the, you know, the funeral.” She wasn’t even looking him in the eye anymore. Rowan felt like shit. But something clicked in Aelin’s head and she snapped back to him, her eyes filled with worry.

“Fuck, I forgot about about that. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hit on you while you’re grieving, that was a jerk move.”

So. Awkward. “No. I mean. I was just accompanying Uncle Ellys, but you were kind of a wreck over there. No offense. I’m worried, that’s all.”

“Oh.” Aelin bit her lip. “I see.” Her shoulders starting shaking. And then she started giggling and trying to suppress them. However, she gave that up real quick and started to crack up on him. He wanted to see it as a good sign, but he had no idea what was so funny, and Sellene had a habit of laughing a lot when she felt nervous. So Rowan just stared at Aelin, completely at loss, until she came down from the laughing fit. And then she started to compose herself again. “You see,” she said between deep breaths, “I was actually hired to attend that funeral.”

What the fuck? There was no reply, no thoughts on his head. Rowan froze both mentally and physically. If a fly entered his agape mouth at that moment, it’d probably just keep spinning there.

“God, you look cute when you’re shocked,” she beamed, “Anyway, remember I got the internship at the hospital? I’m at another wing, but I was asked to cover for someone, so I ran into him and he recognized me and told me he was dying and shit. The other time I went there, he told me he’d pay for my transportation expenses when I went to his funeral. He didn’t even invite me, just told me I’d be there.”

“So you cried at his funeral for a bus ticket?” He raised his eyebrow, but it just made her grin and prompted her further.

“That’s what I thought, but then he said Clarisse DuVency was going to pay me after, and the price he offered was enough for me to buy—“ She spent a few seconds looking at a spot on the floor with furrowed eyebrows. Aelin was never good at math. “Twenty-five slices of chocolate hazelnut cake! From Emrys’s.”

“No shit.” Emrys’s was one of the fanciest patisseries in town. Rowan was beyond shocked.

“Yes shit. And then he told me he’d double it if I cried.”

Like flipping a switch, Rowan unfroze and started laughing. A lot. What kind of person hires people to cry at their funeral? And Aelin followed him suit, both of them looking a tiny bit hysterical while sat on his white unfurnished room.

Aelin decided rest on the floor, lying on her side. “And the icing on the cake,” she wheezed, “Is that I saw two nurses crying there too.”

Rowan lay on his side as well, facing Aelin, and put a strand of her hair behind her ear. “For what it’s worth, I think you were a fantastic mourner. You earned those fifty slices of cake.”

“Thank you,” she said with closed eyes and a smile.

Rowan held her face, and his thumb wandered languidly through her cheeks and chin. But then Rowan inched closer to her and, with slightly shaky hands, gave a gentle stroke on her bottom lip. “Is this okay?”

When Aelin nodded, Rowan had a feeling he would have to go to the hospital if his heart started beating any faster. Still, he closed the space between them and kissed her. Soft at first, trying not to push his luck, but then she grabbed his chin and rolled herself on top of him, deepening the kiss. Her lips were so soft, and Rowan had never liked chocolate until he tasted it from Aelin’s mouth.

They kissed. So much. Aelin had her hands under his shirt and started to press herself against his cock until he couldn’t think anymore. So he decided to yank her hair and attack that soft spot below her ear that made her moan his name every time, and that’s when he realized he’d probably crave her lavender scent for the rest of his life. Aelin gave him a hurried kiss and stood up from the floor, extending him a hand.

“Shirt off. Now.” Rowan gave her a cocky smile and lifted his shirt. When the fabric of the shirt had allowed him to see again, Aelin’s face had gone from defiant to... Actually, he didn’t know what the fuck it was. She was blinking with her mouth opened. Did he disappoint her? He shouldn’t have skipped the gym all those days this month and—

“You didn’t look like this in high school.” It was easy to see the rise and fall of Aelin’s chest as she heavy breathed and still shamelessly stared at his abs.

“I’m not seventeen anymore, Aelin.”

“Good.” She jumped at him and the soft hands that started near his collarbones traveled down his whole torso. So did her mouth that, after kissing his, travelled south patiently, tasting his jaw, neck, chest, every inch of his six-pack. Rowan was so light-headed by then he was afraid he’d lose his mind entirely before she’d get where he wanted.

When Aelin was on her knees and undoing his buttons like the good girl she was, he gripped her chin and painstakingly said, “You don’t have to.”

However, she just finished taking his cock out of his clothes, licked her lips and grinned like fucking Hellas at what she saw. “Don’t you think your cock deserves to have its every inch licked off, Rowan?” Maintaining eye contact, she sinfully licked it from the base to the tip, swirling her tongue at the end. “I know it won’t fit in my mouth.” And she proved her fucking point, swallowing his length until he could feel it hitting somewhere, making him grip her hair harder. “Is that why you want to let me off? Because you want to fill me up all the way?” Aelin was jacking him off as she spoke, never letting him clear his hazy mind to focus on what she was saying. “Because if that’s the case, I’m sure my pussy can take it.”

Shit. He was in such deep, unending shit.

Without thinking much, Rowan yanked her off the floor and threw her over his shoulder, taking Aelin upstairs while hearing her laughs and mock complaints to put her down.

When Rowan reached his bedroom and indeed put her down, his stomach dropped as she started laughing. For Mala’s sake, he’d never bring a girl home—not any girl, Aelin Galathynius—if he’d remembered he didn’t own a bed. Unfazed, she started stripping on her way to his mattress, and he followed suit. Each one of her torturous movements sent the room on fire a little more. She was a goddess through and through, and if he didn’t kill himself for his lack of bed, he was sure Aelin herself would tease him to death later.

Aelin tried to continue what she started downstairs after laying on the mattress, but Rowan pinned her hands above her head and went directly to her breasts. He licked and sucked them while she moaned with her legs around his waist. She tightened her hold on him when he mentioned to keep trailing down, so Rowan set Aelin’s underwear aside and started to put some pressure above her clit with his thumb, flicking it in tandem with her nipple and making her arch underneath him.

Rowan was always short-circuiting when it came to Aelin, but right now his brain was surprisingly hyper-active. He was high on her smell and the way she reacted to his touches. He inserted a finger inside her, and she was so wet he decided she could take two more. Slowly, dragging this out as much as he could. It was a challenge to coordinate the tongue on her nipple with the thumb on her clit and the fingers inside her, but every touch, moan and scream from Aelin sent electric bolts through his body and made his brain high on her, wanting more.

With building intensity, Rowan’s fingers were hungrily stroking her G-spot, moving like they were calling her to him. He could feel it when her breath hitched and she gripped him like a lifeline. Aelin started making strangled noises and screaming his name, and he drew her orgasm out until he couldn’t feel her insides pulsing anymore.

She was completely limp on his mattress, but grabbed his hair and guided his mouth towards hers, lazily kissing him while she recovered.

“Do you have a condom?”

“Babe, I don’t even have a bed.” He was too aroused to feel ashamed by now.

She started chuckling on the crook of his neck. “That’s a terrible answer. I’m going to sit on your face for it.” Fuck. Yes.

“I’m yours to sit, Ma’am.”

So she kneeled on the mattress and began to positioned herself, but then she started turning and—

Bloody Hellas.

She was going to sixty-nine the hell out of him right here, right now.

That woman was going to be the death of him. In fact, as Aelin positioned herself on his face, Rowan decided that if he actually choked to death on that ass he’d die a happy man.

With a heart beating a mile a minute with anticipation, Rowan yanked Aelin’s hips with a bit more force than he should and started feasting on her before she could finish adjusting herself on him. Instead of protesting, she ground herself in his face and tipped her head back, moaning. So Rowan gave as much of a slap as he could on her ass as a reminder to do her part of the position, feeling her clench on his tongue before hearing her groan. He did a mental note to be in a more punishable position the next time she teased him with something and took too long to follow through.

When Aelin swallowed around his cock, sucking on it and applying pressure on the remaining part with her hand, Rowan felt like his whole body was ignited by her. The ecstasy she put him in sent him into a frenzy, he refused to let her wet mouth distract him from his part of the position, and judging from Aelin’s demeanor, she was thinking the same. So they gave as good as they got. Rowan would part her lips and flick his tongue over and over again on her clit, and when she’d moan, she did in on his cock, so he’d feel it reverberate on every inch of him. This felt like the most intimate game Rowan had ever played, and he was drowning in pleasure from it.

When Aelin’s knees started trembling too much, he already knew his release would come soon too. Rowan gripped Aelin’s hips tight to gave her more support, and she gripped his face with her thighs as she came, stimulating him with her hand only so she could scream his name. She got back to sucking him even before coming down completely, but Rowan was soon giving her gentle taps to warn her. But she didn’t listen, swallowing him whole as Rowan felt all the electricity tightening his body dissolve into pleasure.

Rowan didn’t move, but Aelin left her spot on his face to cuddle him on the mattress, limbs completely tangled.

“That was perfect.”

He nuzzled her hair with his nose. “You’re perfect.”

“I’ll confess something to you. If you find it creepy, I promise I’ll leave.”

“Spill.” He felt rather than saw Aelin take a deep breath, and it was all preparation she gave herself.

“Ihadacrushonyoubackinhighschool.”

“What? I didn’t hear you.”

Aelin sat on her spot, looking him in the eye. “I had a crush on you back in high school. Still do, apparently.”

No fucking way. There was absolutely no fuck—

“Rowan, please say something.” Her eyes her wide, and she had a death grip on the sheet above her chest, which was rising and falling swiftly.

Rowan smiled, tackled Aelin back on the mattress and kissed her throughly, the way she deserved to be kissed. “I had a crush on you too.”

Aelin squinted her eyes at him, but the fake-mourner with impressive acting skills was having trouble hiding her excitement. A few seconds later, she smiled at him, but still said, “I don’t believe you.”

Rowan smirked, wiggling his eyebrows at her. “Lorcan knew, you can confirm with him.”

Her jaw fell. “You’re lying! Elide knew, and she would...” Aelin trailed down and stared blankly at the wall, processing something. But then she directed herself back to him, her posture relaxed once more, and started cracking up at this mess. And Rowan easily followed suit. Now he started to remember all the times they’d abandon them and come back later to glare at Fenrys. Poor Boyo, he probably had no clue. Elide was more subtle, but Rowan always thought Lorcan just didn’t like Fen. Or maybe it was true, and those occasions were just added to the list. Anyway, he didn’t care about that now.

Rowan and Aelin were staring at each other with silly grins when she decided to use his abs as a pillow. “This is when you get me food. Shitty microwave lasagna, preferably.”

“I can also take you to dinner and buy good restaurant lasagna.”

“Nope.” She popped the *p* while shaking her head and grinned at him. “We’re eating supermarket lasagna on the floor and then having sex with our supermarket condoms. It’s about the experience. And the fact that I don’t have the appropriate clothes now.” He’d be happy to follow through her plans, but her refusal made him feel uneasy. Did she not want to go on a serious date with him? Rowan realized with a huge knot on his stomach that just because she thought he was cute four years ago didn’t mean she’d want to be with him now and—

“Buzzard, you okay?” She was sitting in front of him now, biting her lip with furrowed eyebrows.

He cleared his throat. “Aelin, is this a one-night stand to you?”

Her whole face softened. “I don’t want it to be.“

“I’m glad,” he replied while cupping her face, looking Aelin deep into her eyes and kissing her lips once again. It was impossible to get tired of those.

“Perfect. Now that that’s settled, we’re buying an air conditioner tomorrow morning. I’m not giving you an option here.” Aelin’s earnest eyes told him she meant business, so Rowan just hugged her closer, feeling her smile on the crook of his neck. He’d buy all the heaters she wanted if it meant she’d continue to sleep by his side.

Just to tease her, Rowan insisted on his previous offer. “I was hoping to take you on a proper first date before grocery shopping and buying house stuff together.”

Aelin narrowed her eyes. “You’ll still buy me food, Rowan. I’m not letting you off the hook that easily.” He laughed and they started to get dressed.

“Can I at least take you to lunch after buying the AC?” Rowan offered while they were descending the stairs.

She smiled at him. “That’s actually perfect. Is there a chance you can also buy a bed?”

Rowan laughed and brushed their lips together as he grabbed his keys. “Sure. I’ll buy us a bed.”

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#rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #rowaelin fanfiction #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfiction #rowan x aelin #rowaelin au #aelin x rowan #my writing

[viridigone]

YOU WILL DOOM THEM ALL.

   A stilted silence, then a shrug, arms lifted higher than what would’ve been casual.

   “Oh, well, I tried, guys.”

Really, with no cellphone reception, how was was Jude going to order food? He could’ve sworn demons were more reliable than that. (He also could’ve sworn that demons didn’t exist.)

#anon #// asks * #use humor to blow off the very real worry #dw guys jude's got this

[beyondspaceandstars]

One shot | Bucky | Fluffy: 1 , 9 | Angst: 5 , 6 | w/ a happy ending

I kinda wanted to make it a challenge, and I thought these prompts were the most interesting! If you do choose to do it, I hope you have fun! Have a great day ❤️

Pizza With a Side of Confessions

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: N/A, bit fluff, bit angst

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: thank you so so much for requesting! this also include in the second ask you sent i did see it and make note of it! you certainly did give me a challenge here this one took some real mapping out to complete but i think i got it i hope i checked off all the boxes :)

Masterlist

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You had sworn the knock on your door was going to be from your date. The sleazy, creepy date you had just rejected on the stoop of your apartment building.

He had ended up being the complete opposite of what he appeared to be online. Through text messages, he seemed caring and kind. Interested in you. But then when you two met… He hands kept groping. Wandering. Caressing. You had begged him to stop in the restaurant which he eventually did after he walked you home, something you only agreed to to keep the peace, he began working on you again and you had to put your foot down, forbidding the night from going further.

He didn’t look too happy about your attitude which made you assume when that knock landed on your door, it was him and he was coming back for revenge. You had grabbed the first knife you could find and quickly pulled the door open, ready to hopelessly defend yourself…

But as you blinked back the tears cascading down your face, welling in your eyes, you saw a familiar pair of blue eyes along with a familiar frown.

"Bucky?" You sniffled, still pointing the knife at your best friend’s chest.

"Hey, doll," Bucky said, cautiously. He was standing as still as he could while also balancing a pizza box in his arms. "Do you… Do you maybe want to drop the knife, like, right now?"

You shook yourself out of your daze, quickly pulling the knife away from him. He visibly relaxed but his expression was cold, serious, as it took in your upset form. You brought the back of your hand to your face trying to get rid of the tears but they just wouldn’t stop.

"I-I’m sorry," you mumbled as you stepped away from the doorway, letting Bucky into the apartment. He immediately abandoned the pizza on your kitchen counter and turned to you, brows furrowing in waves of worry.

"What happened?" He asked — well, more like growled. If a man could growl. He truly sounded beyond angry which made you jump a bit. Bucky must’ve noticed because he immediately took a step back and tried recomposing himself. "I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you it’s just — seeing you cry — I need to know, whose ass am I kicking now."

You let out a light laugh at that, seeing his such protective side. You and Bucky had formed quite an interesting friendship over time. When you two first met, he loved bickering with you, teasing you here and there about anything and everything. You’d be the bud of the joke with him and while you tried not to let it bother you, admittedly, it had very quickly gotten quite annoying. Eventually, he seemed to just abandon the act and while you were cautious, you welcomed the newfound friendship — Lord knows those were hard to come across in adulthood.

Bucky has been an amazing friend to you ever since. Maybe even a little too amazing because over time you couldn’t deny some feelings had begun to form. But in your eyes, there could be no way such a handsome, funny man was going to be as interested in you. You tried to suppress it and instead just taught yourself to enjoy his little acts of kindness.

"I-I went on another date tonight," you sighed, setting the knife back in its holder. You leaned against the counter, opposite of Bucky. His arms were folded, waiting. "I and this guy had been texting for a while and… and I really thought he was great, I truly did, but then when we met he just made me so uncomfortable. All touchy, feely… Just making my skin crawl, even now." You sighed, dropping your gaze to the kitchen floor. "I told him I wasn’t interested after he walked me home and he didn’t seem very happy about it so… When you knocked, I thought it was him trying to get into my apartment."

You felt like such a fool explaining the situation. Despite this being Bucky and knowing, at some capacity, he wasn’t going to hold it over you, it was still embarrassing. You seemed to be constantly going on these dates trying to find a partner and time after time you came up disappointed. And Bucky would always be there to pick up the pieces.

When you looked back up at your friend, you found he was studying you closely. He was sure taking a while to respond but, then again, what more could he say? You felt he probably had grown exhausted trying to comfort you after these failed dates.

And it seemed your suspicions had been confirmed — but not in a way you could have ever seen coming.

Bucky cleared his throat as if he was preparing. You took a deep breath, ready for whatever blow he was about to serve. Would he yell at you? Would he give some speech on his disappointed he is? Beg you to delete the apps? Would he—

"Maybe you just shouldn’t be going on those dates anymore."

"Huh?" You frowned.

Bucky sighed. "You can’t keep putting yourself through this."

"But how else will I find someone to date? I’m not getting any younger here, Buck."

He turned away suddenly. You heard him let out a deep sigh. Your heart was pounding loudly in your ears.

"You could maybe start by looking at the man in front of you."

Your jaw just about hit the floor. "B-Bucky—"

But there was no stopping him as he went in for the declaration. "Remember when we first met and I used to tease you relentlessly? At the time, did it ever cross your mind that maybe, just maybe, I didn’t hate you? That I wasn’t doing it out of spite? I was doing it because I was nervous. Here waltzes in this amazing, beautiful woman, and I-I didn’t know what to do. I was falling for you and I couldn’t stop it. Hell, I’m still falling for you. Every day, darling. Every goddamn day." He paused, shaking his head. "I know this probably isn’t what you want to hear tonight but I can’t sit here any longer watching you get taken advantage of by the men in this city. I’m sorry it’s coming out like this but I think you needed to hear it. I apologize for that but I won’t apologize for loving you."

You didn’t know what to do. All you could focus on was Bucky’s pleading eyes and the tears forming in your own. But they were coming on for a good reason this time. They weren’t wasted tears over an uncomfortable date. They were tears of relief.

"Do-Do you really mean all that?" You finally asked.

Bucky nodded. "Every word."

In a spontaneous move, you pushed yourself away from the counter and took determined strides towards Bucky. You threw your arms around his waist, burying your face in his shirt. It took Bucky a second to react but you eventually felt his arms snake around you.

"I love you, too, Buck," you mumbled into his chest. You felt his body shake as he chuckled.

"You sure, doll?"

You nodded. "I’ve loved you for a while, too. I just never thought you’d ever…"

"Stop," Bucky said. "Don’t say anymore. Whatever you thought, it’s not true. I have always loved you."

You pulled away from his chest, putting some distance between you two but keeping your arms locked around him. He was looking down at you with a great mixture of relief and adornment on his face. You couldn’t help but smile. You felt the same.

"I can’t believe this," you giggled. "So are we… Are we like…"

Bucky laughed. "I think we need a date first."

You gasped, happily. "A date?"

He nodded then untangled himself from you. You watched as Bucky walked over to the forgotten pizza. "How about pizza and a movie?"

You looked between Bucky and the pizza box. "Bucky, do you want to explain why you were at my door with a pizza?"

Realization flashed across Bucky’s face. "I-I didn’t come here expecting a date or anything, I swear. I stopped by because… well, I didn’t know you had your date and thought at the very least we could hang out. I even got your favorite."

You smiled, stalking over to the pizza. "Pepperoni and jalapeños?"

Bucky scoffed. "I did say I got your favorite, didn’t I?"

You let out a cheerful squeal as you hugged Bucky again, throwing your arms around his neck. He leaned into you and it all felt natural, like the stars in the sky had finally aligned.

You broke away and said, "You take the pizza and find a movie. I’ll grab some plates."

Bucky agreed and you two broke into your separate tasks, eventually coming back together to sit on your living room couch. At first, though, you two just kind of stood there, the smell of pizza wafting between you two. You weren’t just sitting on the couch to watch a movie — you were sitting down, on a date, to watch a movie.

But you were tired of being so hesitant and running into wrongs after wrongs. You were taking this opportunity. You sat on the couch and patted the spot right next to you. Once Bucky sat down, you got a bit bolder and threw his arm over you, allowing you to cuddle into him. He was a bit tense at first but soon eased up, welcoming you to invade his space.

Bucky had decided on some action movie but you didn’t particularly care about it. All you could focus on was the fact you were cuddling with Bucky while eating pizza. It was a date. A real date where the touching felt natural and you weren’t scared of saying the wrong thing. Had you really been so blind?"

The emotions and questions within you were building quickly. You needed a way to break it, to distract yourself. You landed on your sad, silly humor to save the day.

"Hey, Buck," you mumbled as the car on screen blew up or something. You didn’t know, you just shifted closer into Bucky — if that was even possible. His hold on you got tighter.

"Yeah, doll?"

"Remember when I pulled a knife on you? That’s crazy. Who would’ve guessed a little civilian like myself could hold a knife to the Winter Soldier and live to tell the tale." You were well aware that you were rambling now, the roller coaster of a night catching up to you, but Bucky didn’t seem to mind.

The laughter that escaped him was like music to your ears. His body shook beneath you as he comically laughed at your ridiculous comment.

“You drive me up the wall sometimes, darling," Bucky mumbled back once he had calmed down.

You giggled, "Better get used to it."

"Yeah," he sighed, "I guess I better."

#1k celebration #request #bucky barnes #the winter soldier #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x reader #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes angst #angst #fluff #marvel fanfiction #marvel one shot #marvel #mcu fic #mcu #avengers #friends to lovers #one shot #writing*

[actuallysaiyan]

Okay I just finished devouring your masterlist 😩🌊 But could I please have a Madara NSFW alphabet? Or Itachi? It's up to you but... 👀 (I just need the Uchiha men 🥲)

A/N: Awhh I’m so glad you enjoy my writing! I decided on Itachi for the time being, as someone else requested Madara ;) so look out for that one very soon, because I love the Uchiha men a lot too. There will be lots of Uchiha men content on this blog, that I can assure you!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Itachi is soft and caring, and he’ll clean you up and make sure you’re okay. He’ll bring a washcloth and softly clean up the mess the two of you have created. He’ll run you a bath if you’d like, and he’ll wash you and massage you. Then he’s going to tuck you into bed and snuggle closely.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Itachi isn’t very picky. He likes his body just fine, and while his sharingan is amazing, it can be a curse sometimes. Maybe it’s his hair. It’s something that he’s always prided himself in, even if it’s just something that is naturally beautiful for him.

Itachi is a sucker for pretty eyes and a kind smile. He loves watching the way sunlight hits his lover's eyes in just the way possible. He could spend forever just looking deeply into your eyes. And your smile is a reminder of how beautiful the world can be.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Itachi, like the rest of the Uchiha men, has a breeding kink. He gets very weak about cumming deep inside of you. But he’ll never do it without your permission. He’s going to make sure you’re okay with this before he does it. If you let him do it, he’s going to be so happy to share such an intimate moment with you.

For you, Itachi loves to make you cum as much as he can. He doesn’t always have all the time in the world to spend with you, but when he does get some free time, he loves making you cum so he can watch you come undone. It’s so sexy to him.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Itachi fantasizes a lot about you cumming on his cock. He spends a lot of time without you, so he just thinks about it at night when he’s lying in bed. It makes his cock so hard when he can imagine you bouncing up and down on it, and you’re moaning his name and he’s just so in awe. He really enjoys this alone time in his own mind.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Itachi has no experience prior to you, so you need to teach him a few things. He learns very fast and becomes an expert in no time. He knows your body and he knows how to treat you, so it doesn’t take long for him to know exactly where to touch you to have you panting and begging him to make you cum.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Itachi loves missionary or anything involving you being so close to him. He wants to hold you in his arms while he thrusts into you so slowly and sensually. He also loves the om position(you on his lap) and he’s a big fan of the spooning position too. Sometimes he loves lazy sex so he’ll get behind you and just thrust into you so slowly.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He’s not funny at all in the moment. He loves to be sensual and romantic with you, so he’ll praise you and call you cute pet names. Itachi wants you to know that you are well loved and that he enjoys every moment he spends with you.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He’s got some hair down there, but it’s pretty well maintained. He likes to keep himself clean shaven or at least well trimmed. The carpet does match the drapes of course, it’s very dark and black, but it’s not super coarse. It’s nice and fluffy.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Itachi is so romantic. He loves to kiss and caress you all over, and he’ll praise you. He wants you to know how much he loves you. You mean the world to him, and he needs you to know it in case something bad happens to him. He’ll hold you close and whisper sweet little nothings in your ear as he thrusts so slowly and sensually.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Itachi masturbates regularly when he can’t be with you. It goes hand in hand with his fantasies about you. He’ll use his hand and he likes to take it slow and draw it out like he does with sex. He’ll start to think of you at night when he’s alone and one thing leads to another, and then he’s pumping into his hand and moaning your name.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Itachi definitely has a breeding kink. It’s very strong within him, as he wishes to have his own family. He longs for that happy life. Itachi also loves spanking, dominating you(but he can switch too) and he loves marking you(so biting, choking, bruising a little). He’ll never get too rough with you, but he does love leaving little love bites and little bruises from where he grabs onto you when he fucks you.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He’s a big fan of doing it in private on a bed. He gets all the time to draw out sex this way. If not, he knows it’s okay to have quickies in places that could potentially get you caught. Itachi is willing to risk that, but he’d rather fuck on a bed. He loves bathtub sex as well, as you can just be warm together and the water makes everything so much more fluid and it feels so good this way.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

He needs to hear you say it. He loves it if you lean in towards him and whisper “I want you in me,” in his ear. If you start to rub his thigh and his chest, he’ll be pretty turned on. He also loves it if you start to get a little cheeky, so maybe if you bend over while wearing a short skirt or just flaunting your tits in his face a little.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Itachi will never do anything that will hurt you for real. He’s okay with some pain during sex as long as you are consenting, but he’ll never hurt you for real. He’s also not huge on urine play or scat, as he hates the idea of desecrating you. You’re beautiful, and he can just paint you with his seed instead ;)

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Itachi is very weak for blow jobs. If you get on your knees and take his cock out of his pants and just start sucking him off, he’s going to cry out and tug on your hair a little. He loves it when you look up at him through your lashes while you deep throat him. He needs to stop himself from cumming right then and there.

He’s also a huge fan of going down on you. He’ll spend so much time between your thighs, just lapping at your juices and watching your reactions to the different techniques and speeds he uses. He’s very good at reading your body.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He’s almost always slow and sensual, but some nights he’s feeling a bit more hungry for sex. He’ll pound into you and make you scream his name, all while squirting all over him. He wants you to feel good, and he usually puts your pleasure above his own, but some nights he needs that release. He’ll always tell you beforehand. 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

They aren’t his favorites, but he knows sometimes that’s all the time he has with you. He’ll lead you to an empty closet or something like that, and he’ll pick you up so you can wrap your legs around him. Then he pumps himself into you and tries to challenge himself to see how quickly he can make you cum.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Itachi is game to experiment, but he needs to know you are willing to try new things before he does anything. He’s excited about trying new positions or new techniques, but he loves to hear your input on things as well. He knows you’ve got some good ideas, so he wants to use them.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He’s got amazing stamina. He can last a very long time, and he needs very little rest between rounds. He’ll fuck you all through the night and then some in the morning if you can keep up with him.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He’s into toys, but he loves using them more on you than using them on himself. He’s a little vanilla sometimes with sex, but if you want to use a vibrator on his cock while you make out with him, he’s not going to complain. He loves it when you take charge and use toys on him to make him realize how good they are.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Itachi doesn’t mind teasing from time to time, but it takes barely anything for him to melt at your pleading. He loves making you cum and pleasing you, so teasing you isn’t always in his plans. But he also loves the pathetic looks and noises you make when he edges you for so long. It’s worth it when you finally cum hard.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s not very quiet, but he isn’t super loud either. He loves to moan and make noise because it really feels so good. He’s not embarrassed about letting you know that he’s having a good time too.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Itachi loves it if you push his face into your tits while you’re riding him. He loves how soft and warm they are and he’ll kiss them and suck on your nipples and it’s honestly something that will probably make him cum so fast! If you want him to cum quickly, just bury his face in your tits.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He’s lean but muscly, and he’s very well built. His cock is very long, and has a nice girth. It’s not very thick, but still good for stretching you out. It’s probably about 9 inches and has a very slight curve to hit that sweet spot.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He has a normal sex drive. He loves having sex with you when he can, but he’s busy and he knows it can’t take over his whole life. Don’t worry, he won’t ignore you if you have needs that need to be met. He’ll take good care of you.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

A long time. He loves to relish in the moment of just holding you in his arms and how peaceful everything is when you’re just there sleeping. You help keep him calm and comforted.

#writing #anon requested #reader requested #itachi uchiha #itachi uchiha x you #itachi uchiha x reader #itachi uchiha x y/n #itachi uchiha lemon #itachi uchiha smut #itachi uchiha spicy alphabet #itachi uchiha smutty alphabet #naruto #naruto shippuden #naruto headcanons #naruto imagines #naruto scenarios #itachi uchiha headcanons

[fbfh]

peter quill dating hcs

Listen this isn't the smut headcanons

But it's peter quill

There's gonna be some 18+ jokes and content

I will keep this as sfw as possible bc you'd better fucking believe that Peter Quill relationship and intimacy hcs are on their fucking way

So yeah just a prelude

Anyway

Yuh let's get inTO it

Okay two things first

1: I'm so mad there's like no fics for him?????????? Why is he not yet a tumblr sexyman??????? I get the first movie came out in like 2014 so I probably just missed the hype window but for gods sake

2: a lot of ppl think he'd be easily flustered and blushy and that's totally and completely valid

However

Why are we overlooking the whole "I've slept with half the galaxy" thing????????

Like

Okay Peter is a goofball

We know this

And on top of that

He can get it

I'm going to stop myself there so more on that later

He's like 6'2, hilarious, charismatic, so loving and compassionate, fan fucking tastic music taste i could go on for days

I feel like more likely than not you'd probably go from fwb to lovers

Since this is the sfw half we're gonna focus more on the second half

I feel like he falls so hard and fast he doesn't really have time to be like

Oh no I'm falling in love dammit

He's so easily distracted by everything about you that he can't hear that voice going "snap out of it Peter"

Cause he does not want to

Oh my god sit on his lap when he's in the pilot's seat in the Milano

When he's not driving obviously

It's one of his favorite things you do

If you're Terran you bond over earth stuff really quickly

#growingupterran

He's really affectionate

Like really really affectionate

Rocket makes gagging noises whenever you're in the same room cause there's usually some kinda cuddling or kissing going on

Even just loving gazes across the room

Rocket is the voice Peter ignores telling him to snap out of it

Rocket: come on! This is gross! It's gross, right Groot?

Groot, handing Peter a flower to give to you: I am Groot :)

Peter, handing you the flower: thank you Groot, you're my new wingman

Rocket: >:(

Don't worry though, you call Rocket the weapons expert and he likes you suddenly

"What should we bring to the attack?"

"We should ask Rocket, he is the weapons expert"

Rocket, dropping down from an air vent, "DAMN RIGHT I AM"

Rocket gives me Rigby meets Dan from Dan vs energy

When Peter sees you getting along with the rest of the crew it makes his heart so happy

I’d say out of all marvel subunits the guardians have the most genuine found family dynamic

The support between him and his friends is so important to him, so when you integrate pretty easily as part of the group, it means a lot to him

If you’re terran

Which presumably you are

When he first shared his awesome mixes with you you loved it

You checked your phone and realized, very distraught, that you don’t have wifi in space

Luckily you had some music downloaded, so you have like 3 playlists you can listen to

Once you get to a planet with actual reception, you make copies of his mixes on spotify so y’all can shuffle them

He kind of prefers to listen straight through but the variety is nice

And the fact that you did that for him???? His heart goes boom boom

And his peepee goes hELLO

He’ll dance with you a lot

Albeit very shittily

But you both have fun

If you’re insecure about dancing you won’t be for long

Sometimes when you’re dancing he’ll have his hands on your waist

Just staring at you

He’s been from one corner of the galaxy to the next

He’s seen everything

And you still top the charts as the prettiest sight he’s ever laid eyes on

His eyes get all big and sparkly

His brow gets a little furrowed and he has this smirky smile

He lets out a breathy laugh, baffled at how after all the pain and loss and bullshit he’s endured

How someone as

Wonderful

As you came into his life

Man

He just likes spending time with you

And as much of a front as he puts up he will come damn near death to protect you and make sure you’re safe

The only reason he wouldn’t actually die for you is because then he wouldn’t be able to protect you more

But he will 100% sacrifice himself for your safety and wellbeing

Afterwards he’ll cover it up with self aggrandizing humor

“So we’re in agreement… that was so heroic, right?”

Through tears, you’ll clutch him and laugh

“Oh, yeah. Very brave, your medal of valor will be arriving soon,”

He does this to soften the blow of what he did

Both for you and him

Let’s be real, he’s not best with up front emotional vulnerability

He’ll deflect with humor or seduction

But it’s very thinly veiled

When he falls for you you know exactly how much he likes you

Which is a lot

Later during a quiet moment

Maybe you’re falling asleep with his cassettes playing softly

You can tell him not to do that again

How worried you are, how stupid it was, and that you don’t know what you’d do without him

Keep it brief though, he already knows good and well how much it scared you

Most importantly let him know how much how love him

How much you care about him, how much everything he does means to you

And that you’d do the same for him

“Uh, no- no way. The whole point was to keep you away from bodily harm.” He’ll chuckle, half joking, fingers tracing your neck and jawline

“Okay,” you’ll reply into the crook of his neck, “next time, we come up with a plan b where both of us avoid bodily harm. Deal?”

“Yeah,” he’ll say softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “deal.”

Oh god his feelings for you are so overwhelming in that moment

They're swirling around him like a typhoon

He’s so focused on your touch, your breaths, the warmth coming off of you that it just washes over him

All he can do is hold you close

He knows he has no idea what the coming days will bring

But he’ll be damned if you don’t face it side by side

#peter quill #peter quill x reader #star lord #gotg #gotg fanfiction #gotg x reader #guardians of the galaxy #star lord x reader #marvel #mcu #marvel x reader #mcu x reader

[fggtwrmz]

✞ pretty little sinner ✞

Hihi!! Taz here with this accounts first ((technically second)) post! This ones a full fic so it’s v lengthy

warnings: dubcon, noncon is you squint, size kin, dirty talk, talk of breeding, oral, religious themes, degradation, dumbification, dacryphilia, talk of corruption, did i mention degradation? cus we went a lil ham on degration, very rough in general, no like seriously kuroos hella mean here

please mind the warnings and leave if your uncomfortable with any listed!!

wc: 7.6k

The whole small town that you had lived in had known you and your parents as the perfect catholic family, and why would they have any reason to not believe that? After all, you were always such a good girl. The pride and joy of your parents’ lives, you did good in school, never complained about chores, and attended church every Sunday. That’s right, you were the perfect little catholic school girl. 

That's what drew you into him. 

You looked so innocent, so pure, so breakable, he just had to have you. 

And that cute little cross necklace you wore to show your faith? He just wanted to rip it off of you. Have you worship him instead. 

When you had spoken to him you didn’t imagine what he would actually be like. He’d put up such a sweet facade. But that's all it was. 

A facade. 

“What’s someone as pretty as you doing in a place like this, Dollface?” Came out the velvety voice of the walking personification of temptation himself; Kuroo Tetsuro. 

You had heard about him through whispered rumors throughout the halls. He had an infamous reputation. But rumors were just that. Rumors.

So you humored him. 

“At….The corner store? I’m getting snacks, what does it look like?” You had to giggle. It was such a foolish question. So foolish that you didn’t know the weight that it had held. 

He had you hook, line, and sinker, you were just too innocent to realize. And he had been oh so sweet to accept your invitation to church on Sunday! Of course, you had to ask him, the house of God was as good a place to get to know someone as any. Much better than a dingy corner store anyway. 

His words were sweet and charming, even for just a small chat. There was a look on his face that made you suspect something, but the way he spoke pushed your suspicions. 

So when Sunday came and you saw him waiting for you at the door, in what appeared was his normal attire, you still gave him a big smile and waved him over to where you and your parents were. 

“Kuroo! You made it!” You wanted to embrace him in a hug, but you felt that would be a little too familiar for someone you had only met yesterday at a convenience store. “Of course I made it, I wouldn’t blow someone as cute as you off.” He spoke, caressing your cheek. 

Of course he wasn't nervous about being too familiar. 

You felt the warmth rush to your cheeks, the affection catching you off guard. 

“Sorry if I seem a bit underdressed.”  He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, though it seemed as if he didn’t care. His attire could be deemed inappropriate for a church setting. His ripped jeans, loose-fitting button-up shirt, Jordan Retros, contrasting with your pure white short sleeve blouse, frilly plaid green and black skirt, and shining black Mary Janes, and of course that shiny cross necklace that hung so prettily from your neck. 

You giggled, “No worries! I’m sure if you had shown up naked the lord wouldn’t turn you away.” 

And there you went again, going on about how the lord would love anyone, sinner or saint. He’d wondered how you would react if you knew the sins he had committed, had planned to commit. 

He wondered what filthy sins such a precious girl like you were hiding under that short little skirt of yours. 

He couldn’t wait to find out. 

You had taken your seat in the far back pews, opting to sit in between him and your parents. You’d been paying attention to your pastor, up until you felt a warm, calloused hand rest itself on your thigh. 

You looked up with a curious look, but Kuroo seemed to be more focused on the word of the holy father than you, so you relaxed at his touch. Keyword; seemed. 

And that wasn’t all he was planning to do, unfortunately for you. 

He rubbed up and down your upper thigh, occasionally squeezing the soft flesh between your skirt’s end and your thigh highs beginning, pushing your skirt just a little higher up your thighs to get more space. 

At that moment you thought you'd absolutely die if your parents looked over at the sinful act that was going on between you two, but when you looked over they were both too caught up in the pastor’s prayer to notice anything. 

His hand moved inward, causing your breath to hitch. His fingers practically brushed against your core, causing you to let out a gasp. It was loud enough for just him to hear but low enough to where your parents wouldn’t suspect anything. 

You placed a hand on his wrist, signaling it was not the time for this. He simply flashed a smirk, never looking down your way. His fingers made their way to your panties, gently rubbing against your folds, you ended up dampening the garments in the process. 

You sucked in your breath, now holding onto his wrist with a feverish grip, notifying him just how on edge you were. 

“Time for the communion! Everyone, form a line, children, teenagers, then adults.” Father announced.

You let out a breath you weren't aware you were holding in. 

Your pastor had just saved you from eternal damnation. 

You and Kuroo walked in line, behind a couple of kids and in front of a few more teens. He rubbed down your shoulders and arms, sending chills down your spine. 

You held your hands behind your back as children took their crackers which were symbolic of the flesh of Jesus, their “wine” symbolic of the blood of Christ, and scattered back to their seats. 

When it was your turn, Kuroo made sure to keep a keen eye on the way your head tilted back ever so slightly when you had opened your mouth for the cracker to be placed on your tongue. 

He wondered what other situations you would be in such an arguably compromising position. 

You ate the cracker and took the small, plastic shot glass-like cup with you back to your seat. 

“Nah,” Kuroo shook his head, declining the offer of the cracker, and took the cup, downing it and throwing it in the small trash bin next to the pastor, walking back to his seat, not looking back. 

He sat back down next to you, his hands in his pockets this time. You stared ahead, waiting for anything to happen, the tension between you two was so thick you could cut it with a knife. 

Suddenly, he leaned down to your ear, so close you could feel the warmth of his breath on your neck. “By the way, you get so fucking wet. It’d be pathetic if it weren't so adorable.” He hummed, sending heat straight to your core. 

You gasped at his words, looking up at him as he leaned back up. “Kuroo!” You whispered. “You shouldn’t curse in the house of the lord!” 

He looked down at you and chuckled slightly. 

“Oh princess, if it were just us here I’d do so much worse.” He teased, making your eyes widen. Heat rushed over your body, causing you to break eye contact with him. His gaze became too much to bear. 

Your parents and pastor had warned you of temptation before, but you had always thought it would be easy to overcome. You would have never thought that it could be something like this. His words and gentle touches felt like too much yet not enough all at the same time. 

You wanted it all to stop, but yet you wanted to beg for more. 

But you had to keep your composure, God's eyes were on you, you reminded yourself. 

But all you could feel was his eyes on. They were fixated on you. The thought alone of that insatiable look in his eye made your thighs pressed together and your throat run dry. It all made your head reel. 

And just like that, it was over. 

You had been so lost in thought that it took Kuroo shaking you to make you notice everyone getting up and gathering outside for the weekly catch-ups that turned, “just a few minutes dear, and then I swear we’ll leave,” into 30 minutes and plans to babysit Mrs. Johnson's grandsons next weekend. 

“Is it time to go?” Kuroo asked you, wrapping his arms around your waist. 

“Only the adults are leaving, the teenagers and children stay for Sunday school, that’s why I’m wearing this outfit.” You whispered to him. 

He went silent until he proposed an idea that caught you way off guard. “We should go back to my place for bible study, I might be able to show you a different type of God.” 

Your eyebrows raised at the sudden invitation, you didn’t know what he meant by that, but you know it’d be rude to decline such an offer since he had come to Sunday worship despite his belief in this “other type of god”. 

Before you could answer he tapped your mother’s shoulder, catching the attention of both of your parents. 

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but can I speak to you for a second?” He asked politely. Your parents said their goodbyes to Sister Elise and stepped away with you and Kuroo. “Yes?” Came the voice of your mother. 

“Would it be alright if me and your sweet daughter here, a real angel if I do say so, could go back to mine so we can go over the Psalms? I would offer to do it over the phone but the lord’s word can only be understood in person.” It’s like he had the good Christian boy next door role down pact. 

Your parents looked at each other worriedly. “I don’t know, will there be a guardian to watch over you two?” Your father asked. “Yes sir, my fathers at work, but my mother will be there. I promise I’ll have her home at a reasonable time.” He promised.

Oh yeah, he has this little act down to the T, not like you could see through it though. You were so naive and thought that you could bring out the good in him with the help of good. How foolish. 

Your father looked at his watch. “It's five now, so have her home no later than eight. Understood?” “Crystal clear, thank you, sir. Shall we get going?” He asked you, a perfect and pure smile plastered on his face. 

He was too perfect, your parents already adored him. 

Too bad it was only to get in your pants. 

———

You were on his bed. His room smelled of pinewood and lavender. You drowned in the scent, loving every second of it. 

His room was nothing like yours, he had deep red walls, wooden floors, and everything looked to be either black or red, barely any other colors being seen other than the clothes in his closet, and some other things you couldn’t identify, but he shut it before you could get a good look. 

“Sorry if my room is a bit dirty, I didn’t think about cleaning up before inviting you.” He apologized, closing the curtains. 

You loved the way he spoke, it was like his words were coated with chocolate. His luscious and velvety voice made you think things, things the lord would frown upon. 

“No worries! Nobody’s perfect.” You kindly reassured him with a polite smile. 

He’d think differently, you were a goddess in his eyes. Every part of you, even everything he couldn’t see, not that he’d be in the dark for much longer. 

He chuckled, his eyes wandering down your figure, undressing you with his eyes, as you sat innocently on his bed waiting for whatever he might do. 

“So where’s your mom?” You asked innocently, catching him off guard. “What?” “You said your mom was here, where is she? I didn’t see her when we walked in.” 

He’d already forgotten. Typical. 

“Oh, she’s probably taking a nap.” He lied with ease. 

He didn’t think he'd be able to forgive himself if he was in the presence of his mother while thinking about such ungodly things. He planned to defile you, and he wanted to be the only one who even got close to experiencing you in such a state.  

“Oh well-uhm...I’ll be sure to be quiet so I don’t disturb her.” 

He held in a chuckle. There was no way that you would be quiet, no way you could be quiet when he got his way.

“So…. While I have no real interest in changing faiths, I have to ask about the god that you worship.” 

He had you right where he wanted you. 

He hovered over your frame at the edge of the bed, him standing and towering over you. He’d lifted your chin to look up at him with the tips of his fingers and said in a delightfully sinful tone, 

“Oh baby,” He leaned in close to your ear, you could feel his hot breath on your sensitive skin. “I’m the new god, and you're gonna worship me like I’m your true creator.” 

You felt yourself shrink, yes at the way he was menacingly towering over you, but at the way he describes his God—no, himself. 

“You-you’re...the god you were talking about?” You stammered, your hands on his chest, trying to make some distance between you and his dominating presence. 

Sadly to no avail. 

“Mhm, and you’re going to be a good girl and obey me, understood?” 

 "Y-yes, sir." 

"Awe look at you, using your manners without me having to tell you. Keep that up and you just might get a reward." He cooed.

You felt a familiar heat pool at the pit of you. 

What was he going to do to you? What were these sudden temptations? And most importantly why did you want more. 

This was god testing you, and you were failing miserably. 

You wanted so badly to give in to your desires. To leave behind the life of that sweet innocent angel that everyone once knew, you wanted to give yourself wholly to your new one and only savior. 

You were really doing this. 

You were abandoning the only faith you’d ever known for some stranger. 

For all you know he could be a demon from hell himself, here to stray you away from the path the lord had originally sent you to. No, he couldn’t be a demon. He was so sweet when the two of you had first met, and he was so polite when addressing your parents. 

You felt like Eve, being tempted with such a delicious specimen by the devil himself. So when he pushed his lips against yours harshly, like Eve, you gave in. 

His lips molded perfectly against yours. Your tongues were dancing in an elegant waltz that could only be described as heavenly. His lips tasted so sweet on yours. If this was the forbidden fruit you would happily taste it again and again. 

His hands roamed your backside, hiking your skirt up so he could get a feel of your cotton panties. Your breathing sped, feeling him caress your clad ass. You’d always been told to never let anyone touch you like this unless you’re married, but I guess your god was the only exception. 

That’s right. Kuroo was god now, and you had to let him do whatever you want.

Suddenly, he roughly pulled your skirt off, throwing it behind him. You whimpered, afraid he might’ve ripped your skirt. 

Feeling his rough hands run up your sides and into your shirt, he stopped kissing you to look down, causing you to let out a whine, missing the feeling of his lips on yours. 

“Awe baby, don’t look so sad, I’ll get your mouth back to work real soon.” He whispered, trying to unbutton your shirt. Trying. 

You could tell he was getting frustrated at how the buttons wouldn’t come undone. 

He groaned loudly, grabbing an open hole of your blouse and ripping it open, making the buttons of your shirt fly everywhere. You gasped, whining because now you didn’t have anything to come home in. 

“Kuroo! How am I supposed to go home without a shirt?” You whined, hearing him chuckle soon after. 

“Hush, you’ll be fine don’t worry, you won’t be needing it anytime soon.” Kuroo reassured with a smirk.

He unclipped your bra and threw it behind him, looking down hungrily at your tits, admiring how perfect they were. He cupped one of them and proceeded to place the other in his mouth. You let out a soft moan, awakening something fierce in him. 

“Oh fuck, I can’t wait to hear more of those sweet sounds, princess. That’s right, let it all out for me baby.” 

He kissed up your chest and to your neck, peppering kisses and bite marks on you. Claiming you. 

He bit down on a certain spot, making you moan out, your fingers getting intertwined with the back of his hair. Your legs clung onto his waist as he abused the spot with his mouth, leaving dark hickeys. 

Your moans became needier when he brought his knee up to your cunt, grinding it right against your clit, making you wetter by the second. 

You felt high on ecstasy, the pleasure becoming heavenly, but what made everything pure bliss was his words. 

The way he’d call you his baby, his princess in between kisses, and the best of all, his little sinner. 

Being called his sinner made you feel a different type of feeling. It felt wrong, you could feel the heavens looking down on you in disappointment with each response you gave him. 

Yes, you’d be giving up your oath to stay pure until marriage, but if it’s your god taking your virginity, what harm could be done?

When he lifted up off you, you were snapped from your pleasure. 

He was looking down at your body and you resting upwards on your elbows, wondering why he’d left. 

“Get on your knees.” It wasn't a request. It was an order. One that you, of course, didn’t even think to disobey. 

So there you sat. All pretty and kneeling in front of him as if he was an alter. 

 You looked like such a perfect slut in his eyes. Who knew that such an innocent little virgin could look like the perfect whore. 

He wouldn’t tell you that though. No, he wanted to warm you up first. Call you such sweet names, make you feel like his precious baby girl and then let you know just how much of a dirty slut he thought you were.

Knew you were. 

All you needed was a push in the right direction. And he would provide that push. 

“Now you want to know how to appease your god, don’t you?” 

You nodded from in between his legs enthusiastically. 

“Well, first, you have to atone for your sins. Now how would we go about doing that?” 

You didn’t answer. You didn’t know what to say. 

“C’mon baby, be a good girl and use your words. How would you atone for your sins? Think about the position you're in before you answer.” 

You looked down at your legs which were folded underneath you and looked back up at him. 

“P-Prayer?” 

He couldn’t help but laugh at your innocence. “Oh princess, so innocent even in such a vulgar position baby. You’re gonna atone for your sins by sucking me off. You don't want me to be mad, do you?” 

Of course you didn’t. You didn’t even understand what sins you had even committed, but if Kuroo says you’ve sinned, you'll let him do anything to make you holy again. 

He stood up and unzipped his pants, pulling out his cock and waving it teasingly over you. 

“Now stick out your tongue.” 

You did as you were told, eyes never leaving his cock. It was the only one you’d ever seen, and the only one you ever wanted to see. It was a good 7 or 8 inches and about 4 inches wide in girth. 

It had the drool pooling at the bottom of your tongue before falling on your thigh high socks. It felt every bit as sinful as it looked and it had your panties soaked. You'd grinded against yourself for some sort of friction. 

“Awe, so pretty for me, now listen to me, you're gonna take everything I give you, ok princess?” 

You nodded, feeling as if your voice would betray if you tried to speak. 

“What’d I say about using your words? Such a shame, you were being so good earlier.” 

“Sorry sir, please don’t be mad, I promise I’ll-I'll take it all. I'll be so good for you.” The words were coming out faster than you could control. If someone would have told you that you would be in that predicament about a week ago you would have laughed in their face. But here you were, begging for him to do something, anything. 

You sounded absolutely brain dead and he loved it. 

“Ah, yeah that’s it, that’s my good girl.” He said grabbing you by your hair and gently guiding you down his shaft. 

“Fuck baby, ‘gonna train this throat so well you’ll be ready to worship this cock with your mouth anytime of any day.” He growled, lowering your head down faster, soon hearing you gag over his length. You felt tears prick your eyes as he finally thrusted his full length in your mouth, going well past your limits. 

He lets out a dark chuckle, suddenly being cut off by a throaty moan. 

“Ah f-fuck princess you’re being such a good girl, now remember to breathe through your nose.” He reminded you, resulting in you looking up at him and nodding, letting him know you understood. 

Your parents would disown you if they knew what you were doing. Your pastor and priest wouldn’t even think of speaking to you. You’d only have Kuroo, but that doesn’t sound too bad. After all, you had devoted your life to your religion in the past, so what would be so different now? You’d just be able to indulge in such fine luxuries as getting facefucked after church. 

He put his other hand on your head, roughly shoving your head down, matching the bucking upwards of his hips. The action erupted a loud groan from him, throwing his head back. 

You could feel him all the way down your throat. 

“Oh yeah, that’s my good girl, fucking hell baby girl,” he moaned, you could feel his thrusting start to get uneven, your throat not having anymore time to adjust to his size and abuse. 

His pace was absolutely brutal but you sat there, taking everything he gave you.

On the inside you were smiling, happy to please your god, you felt so proud of yourself for making him feel good. Being his good little girl. His obedient little worshipper. 

Your eyes became watery, the way he roughly thrusted into your mouth made your throat hurt, which made your eyes water. 

He bit his lip, lowering the sound of the grunt he let out. “Mmf, baby you look so pretty right now, such a pretty fucking princess for me.” He grunted. 

You didn’t feel pretty, though. Your face was covered in tears, sweat, makeup, and ran down mascara. Your hair was under Kuroo’s grip, messily overlapping his hands. Strings of drool were hanging from your plump lips onto your thighs, not to mention your soaked panties. 

Kuroo on the other hand looked heaven sent. Hair messily askew and face tinted slightly red. Biting his lip while sweat slid down his forehead. He looked like he was graced by God.

He looked like he was graced by God.

You felt ashamed at how wet you got by just looking at him, but fuck was he sexy. 

He shoved your head down quicker and quicker, thrust harder into your mouth. “Fuck, fuck baby you’re gonna-you’re gonna make me—” His groans became more and more breathy, and his working became more and more sloppy, until you felt a warm, thick, sticky liquid coat the insides of your mouth. 

The foreign substance tasted bitter and you wanted to spit it—

“Ah ah,” he sang, grabbing your chin to make you look up at him. 

You looked disgusting. He wanted to see you like this more often.

 “Be good and swallow for me, baby girl.” 

You gulped down the liquid, feeling it still in your throat, but it didn’t bother you enough to where you couldn’t breath. 

“Di-did I do good, sir?” You sounded absolutely broken, and it was like music to his ears. 

“You did amazing, I don’t think I’ve ever cum so hard. Does your face feel alright?” He cooed, tucking himself back into his pants. 

“My jaw hurts, and so does my throat, but I’m glad I got to make you feel good.” 

Kuroo smirked, admiring what he molded you into. Such a dedicated disciple, you deserve an award. “Now it’s your turn. Come on, hop up on the bed for me,” he commanded, patting the spot on his bed beside him. 

You did so eagerly, not wanting to break your obedience streak. You sat on your feet, your hands resting on each of your thighs, smiling with the light shining beautifully in your eyes. 

Even as the mascara ran down your cheek, you looked so beautiful to him. 

“Lay down.” He softly said. You obeyed, as usual, keeping your legs closed in the air. You had no idea what he was thinking of doing. 

“Spread them for me, babes.” He commanded. You were confused, why did he want your legs spread? 

“Wait, why?” You asked innocently. His eyebrows furrowed.

 “Because I said so. You’re not really denying the word of your lord, are you?”

Of course you didn’t. You were completely devoted to him, so without further hesitation you spread your legs. He pulled your drenched panties up off you and threw them somewhere in the room. 

He ducked himself inbetween your thighs and planted your thighs on the side of his head with a secure grip. 

“W-Wait!” You squeaked out. 

“What’s wrong baby? You’ve been such a good girl, and good girls deserve rewards now don’t they?”  He acts like this is for you, when in all honesty it’s all been for him. This whole time he’s only been fulfilling his desires of turning you from a sweet and innocent princess into a filthy fucked out whore and he knows this will only speed the process a bit, you just so happen to be getting some pleasure out of it. 

“Yeah I gue- Ah!” A moan cut you off when you felt him lick up your wet folds, moaning your legs jolt up and your back arch. 

He plunged his tongue into you, his thick tongue thrusts into you, making your moans come out in squeaks. You felt absolutely amazing already. 

His tongue circled around your clit, pushing his tongue in and out of you in patterns; leaving his tongue in, out, for a second, then in again going back to sucking and circling.

Your moans became higher and breathier each time his tongue circled your clit, it drove him absolutely crazy.

He was...spelling something? You could feel it as he kept making the same trails around your cunt. 

K,

U,

R,

O,

O. 

Kuroo. 

“Mmph, Kuroo, more please…” You moaned tugging at his hair. He slid his thumb up your thigh, rubbing your clit as he pushed his tongue deeper in you, prodding your sweet spot.

The sudden action made you cry out in pleasure, tugging at his hair. He moaned from under you at the sudden mix of pain and pleasure on his scalp.

Kuroo stuck his tongue in and out of you, continuing to rub your clit with his thumb. You felt a tingling sensation grow low in your stomach, making your grip tighten on Kuroo’s hair and while your other frantically grabbed at his sheets, the foreign feeling traveling through your entire being. 

You moaned his name, wanting to ask him what the sensation was, but your mind only focused on him, making barely anything come out other than moans and his name. 

His fingers sped up as his tongue explored your walls. The sensation made you tighten, sending chills through your core as the pressure became too much to process alone.

Your legs twitched as your orgasm rocked through you, your eyes rolling back, gripping his hair tightly.

All that you could think of in that moment was Kuroo. KurooKurooKurooKuroo. It was a repeating mantra in your mind.

Your walls tightened around Kuroo’s tongue, a moan squeaking from your throat. Your grip tightened as you came, covering his tongue. You came from your high slowly, allowing you to let out a satisfied sigh. 

You smiled peacefully as he hungrily lapped at your clit, making sure not to let a single drop of your cum slip from his tongue. 

As he pulled out his fingers and lifted up from your body, you relaxed, your legs falling and your hand bringing itself to rest upon your stomach. 

He came up and captured your lips in a bruising kiss, making sure you could taste yourself on his tongue. You tried pushing him away, not liking the taste of yourself, but he slapped your thigh, taking your hands and holding both of them above your head. 

You whimpered squirming, uncomfortable with him holding you down. You shook your head in the kiss, trying to get away, but he only took this as an invitation to slide his tongue into your mouth. 

You moaned into the kiss, feeling your body temperature rise as he rocked against you, grinding against your thigh. The foreign feeling felt weird, but knowing you were giving him pleasure did cloud your mind with a hazy fog. 

He parted ways from the kiss and looked down on you. 

You looked so fucked out, and the real fun hadn’t even started yet. He wondered how you would be able to take him all the way, the thought of you not being able to handle all of him snuck its way  into his mind and making him groan. 

You would look so cute crying that it was all too big, how it wouldn’t fit. The money he’d pay to see that, he’d bow down and pray to any god to see that image and keep it in his mind forever. 

He leaned up and loomed over you, caging you with his hands on either side of your head. His eyes were dark with lust. It struck a tinge of fear in you. 

He unzipped his pants, pulling his cock out, and spread your legs once more.

Leaning down, he whispered in your ear. "Do you think you're worthy enough for my cock princess?" 

"Huh!?" 

"Awe, what did you think was gonna happen sweetheart? You thought it'd be that easy to make up for your sins—"

"But you said—" you felt tears prick your eyes. You didn't think you were ready for such a big step before marriage. You two weren't even dating!

"But you said—" He mocked in a whiny voice. "I know what I said, and now I'm saying," he pulled you by the cross on your necklace. 

"That I'm gonna fuck you until you’re too fucked out to even think about anything else. I'll turn you into such a pretty whore that you'll feel dirty even thinking about stepping foot in that church. Do you understand slut?"

Whore? Slut? Where was this coming from? He’d been so nice to you. You wouldn’t think he’d call you such degrading names. It was like a switch had been flipped inside him. 

You looked down at his size, causing you to whimper in fear for your small body. 

Kuroo squeezed your cheeks in one hand roughly, making you whine, your eyes watering. “Use your words, you dumb bitch. Do you or do you not understand what I’m saying?” He repeated. 

You nodded. “I-I understa-stand.” You hiccuped, hugging your arms.

You we’re borderline sobbing at this point. This wasn’t the smooth and sweet guy who chatted you up in the convenience store. This wasn’t the sweet christian boy your parents knew. This man was Lucifer himself.

And now, your new lord and saviour. 

You didn’t know what you were getting yourself into. You should have never given him the benefit of the doubt. Everyone was right about him. He was just a mean playboy jerk who treated women like shi-

“Awe don’t cry sweetheart. You were doing so good just a minute ago.” His sweet and comforting tone snapped you from your thoughts, and you felt your mind become just a bit less panicked about the whole situation. “Although, you do look awfully pretty when you cry… hm… How bout this; I’ll just make you feel so good to where your instant reaction is to cry. That way I get to see that cute little tear-stained face, and you get to have my expert cock. How does that sound, princess?” 

You nodded, feeling like if you opened your mouth only sobs would come out. 

“What did I say about your words?” He quickly chastised. 

“S-Sorry. Yes sir I-I’d like that…” 

“That's a good girl,” The praise made your chest bubble with joy. You were happy that you could be seen as good in his eyes after all the disgusting things he had just called you. 

“Now here’s the worst part.” 

And that was all the warning you got before he rammed his cock into you. It was the worst pain that you had ever felt. The agonizing stretch, the unfamiliar feeling of being so full, it all was too painful to bear. So you did exactly what he planned and cried. 

He thought of going slow, he really did, but then he wouldn’t be able to see you and those absolutely gorgeous tear streaks. 

“Kuroo, it hurts! It’s too much! Take it out please!” You sobbed out. 

He laughed at you. “Aww poor baby, is it too much?” 

“Good.” He said with another slam of his hips. “You seem—fuck— to forget what we’re—oh god your so fucking tight—doing this for. You were acting like a bitch in church. In the house of your—shit—precious lord.” He said the last point in a mocking tone. “And now you're just paying for your sins to your new god.” He breathed out while continuing to thrust into you at a brutal pace. 

You could only cry harder as he fucked you with such vigor. The stretch was so painful and with every rough thrust he hit your cervix dead on. It was absolute torture. 

So you 're confused as to why the pain slowly subsided and turned to pleasure. Were you… enjoying this? No. There was no way. You didn’t even get a real say in what was happening. So why we’re tiny gasps coming out faster than you could stop them? And why did your hips start to move down to match his thrusts. 

“How do you thi-think your parents would react to your sinful actions right now? Huh, you dumb slut? Bet they’d be so disappointed to see that their precious little girl is nothing but a pretty little sinner huh? Say it! Fuck- Say you’re a sinner, and make sure the neighbors can hear you say it.” 

“B-but your mom..!” 

“You actually believed that?” He laughed. His laughing consisted of grunts and groans, making his laughing time out. “You’re such a fucking dumbass, you know that? I wouldn’t be touching your disgusting ass if my mother was home.” He growled, making more tears stream down your face. 

You whined, covering your face because of the absurd amount of embarrassment you felt. 

“Oh no no no, don’t cover your beautiful face now!” He grunted, taking both of your wrists and holding them above your head. 

With only the bottom half of his cock fucking into you, his thrusts were long and deep, making sure you felt it in your stomach. Your eyes rolled back with each agonizingly painful and deep thrust, your nails ripping off your skins from balling your fists. 

“Oh fuckkkk you're so tight for me.” Kuroo groaned. ”How’s such a slut like you got such a tight pussy?” 

It was obvious that the question was rhetorical as he started to slow his thrusts but put more force behind them, bruising your cervix. All you could let out were little “ah ah ah ahhhhhhs”. 

He slowly stopped, looking down at your trembling body. He let out a breathy groan, shaking his head and biting his lip. 

He let go of one of your wrists and grabbed hold of your hand, bringing it down to your stomach. 

“Princess, do you feel that?” He asked, rubbing your hand over a bump on your stomach. You looked down with him, seeing a slight bump stand with attention below your belly button, making your eyes widen and your breath quicken. 

“Ka-ka-Kuroo! What is that?!” You frantically questioned. 

He looked up at you with the most agrivated, most dumb founded look on his face. “What do you mean, ‘what’s that’?! That’s me, dollface.” He spat, making you jump. “Y-you..?” 

He groaned, slamming into you again, causing you to scream out again. “Ya’ see that moving in your stomach? That’s me, fucking deep into your tight tight pussy.” He growled. You look down again, seeing the bulge in your stomach move with each sharp thrust Kuroo sent through you. 

It made your head feel fuzzy. 

Your body started adjusting to his size, finally. You lifted your legs to cling onto the side of his waist, but they quickly fell spread for him. Your arms also stopped struggling, relaxing under his grip. Your eyes slowly rolled to the back of your head. With each animalistic thrust of his hips you could feel the bed shake. You could barely hear the frame hit the wall over the sound of your high whines and moans and his low groans filling your ear. But you could still faintly hear it, reminding of how rough he was getting. 

“Alright princess now open your mouth and stick your tongue out.” He commanded from over you. 

You opened your mouth and leaned your head back being sure to lol your tongue out.

You felt a cold liquid settle near the tip of your tongue, it was Kuroo’s spit. He’d let it fall like a fountain. Licking his lips when he’d finished. 

“Now swallow like a good girl.”

You closed your mouth and gulped. Letting the spit slide down your tongue. It should have grossed you out, but instead it made your eyes roll back. 

“Aww, look at you, all pretty and fucked out.” he shrugged, thrusting upwards into you, hitting a spot that made you scream out in ecstasy. 

“Kuroo, right there! Fuck, Kuroo yes right there!!” You moaned, arching your back and throwing your head back. 

That was the first time you cursed. Ever. 

“Such a dirty vocabulary you’re discovering! I’m such a good influence on you, your parents would be so proud.” He sarcastically exclaimed in a low and gravelly voice. 

Your parents. You were so caught up in your pleasure that you completely forgot all about them, and the time limit they'd set for you. You were sure you’d past it, it was fairly dark outside. 

You whined, feeling more tears of disappointment roll down the side of your face. “Do-don’t talk about them right now…Ah-I’m gonna-Kuroo fuck p-please!”

He only thrusted harder faster. “Awe baby, do you think you're the one in control? That’s so cute.” He pulled you by your necklace for the second time that night. “You’re atoning for your sins, and I’m using your body for my own pleasure. So you’re gonna sit back, and make sure the only thing that comes out of that pretty. Little. Mouth,” He punctuated each word with a harsh thrust. “Are those pretty. Little. Moans. You got that princess?” 

“Y-yes sir. I’m so sorry sir.” 

“Awe look at my baby! Using her words like a good girl!” He deeply cooed. 

You bit your lip, holding back the moan you desperately wanted to let out, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of your voice. He noticed and started to pound faster. You couldn’t hold back anymore. 

“Fuck! Kuroo! Ple-ase! Fuck you’re so good. Sosososo good. Pleeeeease!” 

“Listen to you! You sound downright pathetic!” He laughed at you. It felt humiliating, but you felt yourself getting wetter from the whole situation. The intensity, the humiliation, Kuroo’s groans, they all were filling up your senses, and you could feel yourself nearing your climax. 

“Look at you, you’re getting tighter. How much of a- fuuuuck how is it possible that your tighter- slut are you? You're really getting off to me calling you a slut? You like that? Huh? Go on, answer me whore.”  

“Yes! Yes Kuroo! I’m your whore! Fuuuuuckkkk!” Your moans were high and breathy. 

He pulled you by your necklace one again and snatched it clean off of you. 

You gasped, snapping out of your lustful trance. “Kuroo!!! My dad gave me that!!” You cried. 

“I don’t give a fuck, I’m your god now, you don’t need a stupid cross, I’ll let everyone know you’re mine.” He huffed, dangling it in front of you, before throwing it out his window. 

The window. The window! 

 “K-Kuroo, how long has that be-been open?” You asked. 

He groaned, slowing down his thrust. “The window? It’s been open since this morning.” He shrugged, fucking into you sloppier and sloppier. 

You felt embarrassed, heat rushing over your being as you held onto Kuroo to hide your face. “O-oh…” you moaned, scrunching your eyebrows together in embarrassment. 

“What’s wrong baby? Are you embarrassed? Are you embarrassed that my whole neighborhood can hear how bitchy, and pathetic you sound? Fuck- Good, fucking cry about it like the stupid bitch you are.” 

Each insult brought you closer to that edge. You forgot all about your previous embarrassment and basked in the bliss of Kuroo’s rough thrusts. 

“Holy shit- Did you get tighter from me reminding you of how much of a—shiiiiiitttt—of a fucking slut you are?” His voice sounded so breathy. You could feel him twitching inside of you. 

And then the dam broke. You could feel your orgasm sparking through you like electricity. 

“Kuroo! Kuroo! Im cumm- Im cumming! Oh Fuck! Fuckfuckfuckfuck! You're so good!”

He revelled in the profanities spilling from your mouth, knowing that before this you probably would have never thought about saying such vile things. 

“Oh thats right baby who’s making you cum on his cock like a dumb bitch in heat? Who’s your god? C’mon, say it, princess.” 

“You! Shit! You're my god! Oh please- It’s too much! It's- It’s too much!” 

He laughed at you. “How many fucking—Fuck baby you feel so good—How many times do I have to tell you this isn’t- Shit- This isn’t for you.” The last part came out as a dark growl. 

“Y-Yes sir! I’m sorry.” 

“Yeah that's a good girl, oh you're such a good slut for me. Shutting up and just taking it. Yeahhh that's a good fucking whore. You want your god to cum inside you? Breed you and fill you up so nice? That what you want princess?” 

Your eyes widened. Nononono he couldn’t! He had to pull out! 

“N-No...Please...” Your voice sounded so weak and tiny. 

“Oh no baby, that was rhetorical. You're gonna sit back and let me breed this little pussy like a good girl who stays in her place, because surely- fuck- you remember your place and wouldn’t talk back, now would you?”

You knew it was useless to deny him. You don’t even know why you tried. 

After a few more thrust there was a particularly hard one. The force of fit knocked you back a bit, but he pulled you back by your thighs so he would stay fully buried inside of you. 

Suddenly you felt nothing but warmth filling you. He was cumming inside you. You could feel him shooting spurt after spurt. You had never felt so full, his thick cock splitting you accompanied by his come pushed you to another orgasm. Your legs shot up and you let out a loud whiny moan. 

“Oh god! Oh fuck! You feel so good filling me up Kuroo- Fuck!” 

“Aww you came again from me cumming in you? What happened to you not wanting it?” He teased. You couldn’t respond, you still hadn’t come down from your high. 

_________

You woke up in an unfamiliar location, dark red walls and black sheets were unlike your pastel blue walls and baby pink sheets. You panicked, until memories of your earlier actions came back to you. You weren't completely calm though, you were sure you definitely passed your curfew and Kuroo was nowhere to be found. 

“Kuroo! I need to get home like— now!” 

He entered the room and laughed. “Oh calm down you big baby, I called your folks and said you’d passed out cause you were so tired. Took some convincing, but they’re fine with you spending the night here.”

You sighed, releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding in. “Oh, thank god.” 

“Speaking of,” He came closer to you. “You down for round two?” 

You felt warmth flood your face and threw a pillow at him. “You pervert!” 

“How am I the pervert when you're the one naked in my bed?” 

He was right, you did feel a cold breeze brush against your cold body as you pulled the covers up. 

“Well then where are my clothes?” 

He winced, itching the back of his neck. “Ya’ see...your skirt is still ripped, but I put your underwear and skirt in the wash. You could wear something of mine though!"

#haikyuu!! #haikyu smut #haikyu x reader #haikyu x reader smut #kuroo smut #kuroo tetsuro x you #kuroo x reader #kuroo x reader smut #kuroo tetsuro oneshot #kuroo tetsuro smut #x reader smut #tw.noncon #tw.cnc #tw.spit #tw.religious imagery #tw.dumbification #tw.degradation

[allegra-writes]

“The Devil all the time”

Hunter!Tom x Demon!Reader

Supernatural AU

NSFW

Warnings: Smut

"Break the silence, damn the dark

Damn the light..."

The Chain - Fleetwood Mac

Forget everything you thought you knew, you had every reason to be afraid of the dark when you were a kid. In this world where monsters are real, the Holland brothers hunt them so normal people can continue to live in the bliss of ignorance.

But when something goes terribly wrong, Tom will do anything to save his brother's life, including selling his soul to the devil. Well... Not exactly the devil, but close enough.

You don't need to watch Supernatural to read this AU

MY MASTERLIST

He knew it was you, even before turning. He knew it as soon as he heard your deceptively delicate footsteps break the supernatural silence that had fallen over the forest the moment he had buried the little metal box in the old crossroad. Tom didn't want to think about what it meant, having such an intimate knowledge of you to be able to recognize you by the cadence of your steps, being so in sync with you that he could tell whenever you were in the vicinity. 

So he used his favorite deflection technique whenever it came to you.

"Y/n? What's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this? Sorry, did I say nice girl? I meant evil skank"

The insult didn't phase you. None ever did. It was hard to take them seriously when you knew how many nights he fell asleep with your name on his lips, after pathetically releasing himself into his own hand, or fucking his boring girl-next-door girlfriend, chasing orgasm over unsatisfactory orgasm that would never completely satiate him. Because it wasn't your face the one contorted in pleasure looking up at him from the mattress.

"You called. I came" You batted your lashes, sweetly. "I always come when you call…" 

He gulped, the innuendo not lost to his ears. It threw him off guard, like it always did. 

"I would have thought this would be… beneath you" Tom cleared his throat, looking away, trying to regain his footing, "collecting a deal, like a vulgar crossroad demon"

There was nothing vulgar about the soul of a Holland. But he didn't need to know that, so you just shrugged,

"Queen Rowena has an interest in you boys. She finds you entertaining. I'm just being a good subdit" 

He scoffed,

"Funny. I would have never peg you for a sub"

You took a step closer to him.

"You don't have what it takes to make me submit, Holland" Your hot breath fanned over his skin, setting his skin on fire. Making his blood boil. You had a way of doing that, of bringing out the worst in him. Of making him lose control. And you thoroughly enjoyed it, poking at the bear until the claws came out, laughing at the carnage.

Another step, and you could physically feel it: The hate, radiating from his every pore, his mind screaming with it. He hated you. He hated your kind. He hated your beauty. He hated the pretty white dress you were wearing, so pure and innocent, glowing like a beacon in the dark. A lure, guiding uncountable men before him into perdition. 

But above all else, he hated that, even then, he couldn't help but to want you. Fervently. Desperately. Irreversibly. 

"I came here to make a deal" He croaked, cursing himself internally for showing weakness. 

"Let's negotiate, then," you replied, stepping away, mercifully letting him breath. 

"My brother-"

"I know" You interrupted, sounding bored already, "Reapers everywhere are going berserk. Who, oh who, will get to reap the soul of a Holland?" 

The wind picked up, making your long dress billow around your legs. You twirled a little, admiring the way it moved. Tom's eyes were glued to you, almost hypnotized. Partly because you were too dangerous to be left unsupervised even for a second, partly because you looked beautiful like that. It had never been more obvious to him that you were an unearthly creature, you didn't belong to this world. There, surrounded by greenery, barefoot, swaying softly under the twilight light, he wondered how could anybody ever mistake you for a human.

"Of course" your apathetic voice took him out of his revery, "being reapers, watching them go wild is rather boring. I swear they are the most uninteresting beings of all creation" 

That made him see red.

"Boring? Boring?!" He knew his voice was rising with every word but he just couldn't help it, "They're waiting for my little brother to die!!"

"Which could happen any minute now," You reminded him, all playfulness gone from your demeanor, "so if you wanna strike a deal, I suggest you start making me an offer worth my time"  

He was taken aback by that.

"I- My soul in exchange of a wish, and you collect it in ten years" He tried and failed not to think about what that implied: vicious, invisible hounds of hell tearing apart his body and dragging his soul to hell, "Isn't that the usual deal?"

You scoffed,

"After all the things you did in your life, what makes you think your soul doesn't belong in hell already? And if your brother dies, that is one less Holland on earth to worry about. You and your brothers have managed to become a big pain in the ass for us…"

He pulled out a knife, a strange one, with runes in the blade. You arched a brow in recognition

"The Winchesters' knife. Are you threatening me, little hunter?" 

Your lack of reaction was another blow. He had hoped you'd be more impressed than that. Nonetheless he turned it in his hands, offering you the handle.

"I'm throwing it into the deal" 

To his surprise, you didn't immediately take it from his hands, choosing instead to pace the clearing, deep in thought. 

The truth was you couldn't care less about the knife, it wasn't more dangerous to you than a toothpick. And while it was true it could certainly damage your queen, she had a far better weapon to protect herself: You.

But it did confirm your suspicions about the Hollands having access to the old Winchester arsenal, which meant they had access to something way more dangerous than that rustic weapon made of steel and bone. A book, made of ancient dark magic and human skin, written in blood. A book that was precious to queen Rowena and by extension to you: the Book of the Damned. 

The Hollands were a family of extremely talented, yes, but old fashioned hunters. The stab first, ask questions later kind. They probably had no idea what they had in their hands… but you did. 

"Very well then," you finally declared, "this is my offer: Your soul and that knife in exchange for sweet Harry's life and one year for you to get all your businesses in order" 

Tom felt all the blood drain from his face. One year. Just 365 more days to live, before an eternity of torture in hell. 

"O-one year?" He breathed.

"One year" You confirmed, "More than enough time to go see the Grand Canyon, eat the world's spiciest burger or whatever you have on your bucket list" 

The disdain in your words only made him hate you harder.

"Not nearly enough to live" He replied through clenched teeth. You rolled your eyes, 

"You're a hunter. You lead short, violent existences, charging head first towards what most humans run away from. Things faster, stronger, more powerful than you, surviving each encounter out of sheer luck. Killing one monster after another, until that luck runs out. Because the monsters? Unlike you who rely on it everyday, they just need. One. Single. Lucky. Strike." You punctuated every word with one step in his direction, until you were face to face again. Until, for the first time ever, you could see the fear, the desperating hopelessness he kept hidden inside, reflected on the warm coffee of his eyes. You knew a lesser man would be already crying and begging for Mercy.

Tom wasn't like other men though, that was the whole point. 

"Or…" You soften your tone and your stance, letting your fingers ghost over the back of his hand, his whole skin erupting in goosebumps. That was the very first time you touched him. Ever. 

And it was as if nobody had ever touched him before, the light caress enough to set every nerve ending, every single one of his cells, alight.

He was so distracted by the sensation and his body's response to it, he almost didn't hear your next words over the sound of his own pounding heart. 

"Or you could keep your little pocket knife, and even have your ten years if…"

"If?" He struggled to focus.

"You let me borrow a book"

His brows furrowed in confusion,

"A book? What book?"

"Any book of my liking, for as long as I want" You shrugged it off, "Do we have a deal?"

There was a catch there, it was obvious. He knew he was going to regret it but, what choice did he have? 

"Deal"

Your smile was blinding, luminous. If he didn't know any better, he would have called it angelical. Now, that was one ridiculous thought.

"What now? We seal it with a kiss?" His eyes fell to your lips, so soft looking and inviting. He wasn't eager to put his mouth on a filthy demon and doom himself. He wasn't. 

You chuckled, but there was no humor behind it.

"Oh no, darling. This is big. This is special" You're special, "A simple kiss just won't cut it…"

No. You couldn't mean… could you? Was there no limits to your hatred for him? Did you really want him so defeated, so humiliated? 

"What do you want?" He spat through gritted teeth.

"The same thing you want" You put your hands on his chest, rising to your tiptoes to whisper in his ear, "The same thing you have wanted ever since we first met . The thing that's obsessing you..."

"I don't know what you're talking about"

You smirked,

"You can lie to your family, you can even lie to yourself, little hunter... But you can't lie to me." 

He couldn't hide, you could see every fantasy, hear every single one of his thoughts of you on repeat, like a prayer in your direction. Just like he couldn't hide the way his skin was burning now for you, the way his blood rushed south, the way all logical thought left his brain, his iron grip on his emotions finally breaking as he snapped. 

Lightning fast, in just a blink, he twirled you around, your back hitting the rough bark of a tree, as he towered over you, demon blade to your throat, every inch of his body pressed against yours. His eyes were ablazed with rage, and passion, as he surged forward, striking you with his best hit.

He kissed you. 

Lips vicious against yours, teeth biting and scraping only to soothe the offense seconds later with his tongue, until he was dizzy, light headed with the lack of oxygen and the taste of you. The hand not holding the knife to your neck fell to your breast, squeezing the pliant flesh with enough force to cause pain on a human woman, merely making you moan. He swallowed the sound, letting his fingers trace your waist, your hips, clawing at your dress until he finally, finally, felt skin under his fingertips. 

It was better than anything his mind had conjured in his feverish fantasies in the dead of the night. The skin of your inner thighs velvety soft, as they parted under his touch, the sweetest sounds leaving your lips as his fingers found your naked core. You weren't wearing any underwear, probably never had. The realization that, in all your past encounters and fights you had been standing there, just feet away from him with nothing under that damn dress hit him like a truck, making his head swim. 

He searched between your folds, and suddenly his fingers were inside you. He was inside you, a part of him was buried deep within you, within your silky heat, claiming you as his, if only for the night. 

And you were so wet for him, and only getting wetter as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, scissoring them, opening you up until he was able to slip a third one in, fucking you with his hand in earnest. You were sobbing, clutching at his biceps, head thrown back in pleasure. He took advantage of that to suck bruises on your neck, only to see them fade before his eyes. Your skin tasted clean, smelled like wild flowers and rain. Ozone. Lightning. Like those coursing through his veins with every cry, every delicious gasp you made. 

He found the perfect spot inside you, the one that sent sparks through your nerves with every stroke of his calloused fingers. 

"This what you wanted?" To make him lose it? Lose his mind, himself, in you? "For me to make you come on just my fingers, like the little slut you are?"

The floor disappeared from under his feet as you sent him flying away from you, a searing pain exploding at the back of his head as he landed, sprawled at the feet of an old, dying oak. With blurry eyes, he saw you stalk towards him, all power and cold, controlled fury. 

"Let's get one thing straight, Holland. I'm not one of your sluts" You sneered, "and I'm definitely not your basic bitch of a girlfriend. So you better start showing me a little respect, are we clear?"

He gulped, sitting up. He had to be seriously fucked up in the head, for his cock to be twitching inside his pants at your threatening tone.

"Crystal" 

"Good" You declared, coming to a stop right in front of him, standing between his parted legs, "Now, let's put that mouth of yours to a better use"

He knew that image was going to be forever tattooed on his brain: You standing in front of him, holding the skirt of your dress up, waiting for him to put his mouth on you. Tom took a moment to admire you, before delving in, flattening his tongue over your slit, before drawing tight, precise circles on your clit with the tip. God, you tasted so divine it was messing with his head; something as dark and corrupted and twisted as you, feeling so exquisite, so perfect, so heavenly to his every sense. 

He helped you hook your knee over his shoulder, his other arm snaking around your leg, pulling you even closer. You could feel his smirk against your cunt the moment he realized your legs were shaking, but you couldn't find it in yourself to care, not with his wicked talented mouth devouring you like a last meal, rocking your whole world, making you see stars behind your closed eyelids.

You always knew that man would make the stars fall. 

Tom kept on, penetrating you with his tongue as far as it would go, his whole face moving against you. The slight burn of his scruff felt delicious against your delicate labia, as he used his fingers to open you up like a flower, separating your petals to get to the delectable nectar inside. You were close, he could feel it, the obscene sounds you were making, the waves of sweetness falling on his lips feeding his ego, filling him up with pride. By the time the night was over, you'd be unable to forget him. He would make sure of that. He would make you come, over and over, until the only thoughts left in your brain were of him, the only word your lips knew how to speak was his name. He would mark you, like a bloodstain, like you had done to him. 

Almost there, he almost had you. Your muscles were locking, your walls starting to tremble, when a loud crack resonated over his head, and you stepped away on unstable legs, breathing hard. You didn't even need to breathe, it was just his effect on you. He made you feel human. And it was both exhilarating, and terrifying. 

You took another step back, but he took hold of your ankle, tugging hard enough to make you fall on his lap, white skirt covering the place where his hands were fumbling with his zip, with his boxers, aligning himself with your entrance.

"Fuck!" He cursed, as you sank on his rock hard cock, not giving him any time to get used to the feeling of you around him, before starting to move. 

"How does it feel" You taunted, "fucking a monster? Is it as good as you dreamed of?"

Better. You felt even better. Tom hadn't thought it was possible, but he loathed you even more for it. 

"Shut up" He growled. 

You leaned forwards, breath hot against his ear,

"Cause you feel amazing, Tom. Your cock feels like heaven" 

His hand tangled in your hair, keeping you in place as he crashed his mouth to yours again, the other fumbling for the buttons at the back of your dress, tugging and pulling, tearing at the fabric, in his haste to feel more. More of your skin against his, more of the body that had been his hyper fixation for far too long. 

You sat up, still grinding on his cock, letting the tattered dress fall to your waist, watching in satisfaction as his eyes went wide, zeroing on the way your breasts bounced in sync with your hips. 

Reaching up, for a glorious second Tom could feel one perfect pebbled nipple against his palm, the roundness, the weight of your soft flesh on his fingers; before an invisible force pinned his hands to his sides. 

You tsked.

"Still don't get it, do you little hunter? This?" You let yourself fall all the way down his thick cock, hard, tearing twin moans from his mouth and yours, "This isn't about you. This is about me." 

Leaning back, you braced yourself on his strong thighs, changing the angle, changing your movements to a slower rocking against his pelvis. The friction against your clit was perfect, the feeling of his big, throbbing dick so deep inside you, stretching you like no one before, sending electrical pulses through your spine. It was decadent. It was ecstasy.

It was torture. Underneath you, Tom was sobbing, eyes bright with unshed tears, fighting in vain against his bonds. He needed it faster, harder, anything to help tilt him over the edge you were keeping him on, your sweet cunt too tight, too good around him to allow his cock to soften, your rhythm too leisured to let the tensed, strained coil inside him to snap. You were uncaring, using him remorselessly to get yourself off, your little moans getting higher in pitch the closer you came to your climax. Tom felt himself getting higher just by looking at your beautiful pleasure ridden face. You cried out, and suddenly it was happening, you were coming, pulsating around his cock, falling apart on top of him.

And the ground beneath him quaked. The sky above his head bled, the blue twilight torn open by lightning, and thunder, despite the fact that there wasn't a single cloud marring its diaphaneity. You fell forwards, hand braced on the tree, next to his face, ridding the aftershocks of your orgasm until the end. 

"No!" Tom cried when, after a few seconds of catching your breath, you dismounted him, letting his dick slip out of you. 

You arched a brow,

"Something you want, Tommy?" 

He locked his mouth shut, gritting his teeth. You smiled, amused, knuckles stroking his still iron hard cock.

"Do you need more, little hunter?" You enveloped him in your hand, moving it up and down his member, watching the head disappear under his foreskin, "Do you need to come?"

He banged the back of his head against the bark.

"Yes!" He finally admitted, "So badly…"

"Then beg" You commanded, stilling your hand. He snapped open the eyes he hadn't realized he had closed. Oh, if looks could kill…

"Never" He hissed, livid.

"Very well, then" You picked up your pace, pumping him fast, your grip almost too rough. He gasped for air, feeling the telltale tightening of his balls, the coil inside just about to break under the tension. But you must have felt it too, cause your hand let go of him altogether. Too late, he understood what you were doing.

One beat. And then another, and he was coming all over his t-shirt, orgasm completely ruined. 

He cursed, tears escaping through the corner of his eyes, fingers digging into the moist ground under his hands. You chuckled, cruelly, standing up and stepping out of your shredded dress. He could have ganked you with the demon blade in that moment, he really could have, except his hands were still pinned by an invisible force at his sides. 

"Let me go, you bitch," Tom growled, tossing, fighting against his restraints to no avail, "aren't you done?!"

"Not quite." You smiled, mockingly sweet, "Just one more thing before I leave. Don't worry, it will only hurt for a minute…"

He renewed his efforts to escape, as you bended over, reaching for his chest, white hot pain burning through his ribs. He almost cried out, but what he saw stole the voice from his throat, turned his blood into ice inside his veins, leaving him shaking, jaw slack and mouth open in a soundless scream: 

You, naked and gorgeous and terrible. Transfixed, eyes glowing with a supernatural indigo light, the shadow of two massive, bended, broken wings projected on the trees behind you.

Not a demon, he thought. You're not a demon.

You smiled, and it was terrifying.

"No. I'm the thing demons have nightmares about" You replied out loud to the words he had only said in his mind, "And now, little hunter, you belong to me. Mind, body and soul"

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader smut #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x you #the devil all the time #supernatural #supernatural au #supernatural smut #demons #angels #demon!reader #hunter!tom holland

[lilsuzn]

MLQC Lucien - NSFW abc headcanons

Sorry I was gone for so long. I was busy doing hot girl shit.

Fandom: Mr. Love: Queen's Choice

Warnings: S.M.U.T.  (the reader is gender neutral, but I quote Lucien’s “silly girl” at one point so idk)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

It’s probably because of this relationship you two have. One that Lucien thought he could never have.

Frankly, he didn’t really want one. Even with you.

But it was impossible to stop himself from jumping into that rabbit whole.

You are not even a human for him. You are far superior.

A goddess.

A greater being that must be worshiped. Cherished. LOVED THOROUGHLY and Lucien can't stop himself from doing all that.

He would help you clean up with so much care. Hold you like he’s about to lose you. Wisper praises and declarations of love into your ear.

Prefers to stay in bed, but wouldn’t mind to do it in a bath either.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He never really gave it much thought, but if you’d ask him, he would probably say - his neck.

Because he noticed how much attention you give it. That given a choice you would always kiss and bite on the neck.

And the unreformable tease he is - he loves your ears.

The way you twitch and squirm when he licks the or softly blows around them. The way you flush when he leans in to whisper directly to it.

All those small reactions get his blood pumping.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

A big fan of cuming onto you.

Your ass is his staple favorite, but chest, stomach, back or… basically anywhere else is not bad at all either.

If he ever comes inside you without a condom… and gets to see his seed dripping out of you… IT’S SUCH A BEAUTIFUL CHANGE OF PERSPECTIVE FOR HIM.

Nothing can beat the look of his seed spilled on your pretty butt, BUT… damn that’s a nice sight.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He doesn’t believe that some deeds can be dirty or naughty.

He's a scientist. Explorer of human's brain. He knows that every single of those is a normal, human thing.

But given that we all know what is this question all about…

Lucien really liked to draw when he was a kid and he still does it from time to time.

And what else could he sketch in his free time if not the most beautiful creation of this world? You. Naked.

He has countless amounts of those at this point. Every part of you has a separate piece. He likes to go through them from time to time.

Meaning every day when you're not around.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Lucien is not a virgin but he had never been in a real relationship before you.

He had some one night stands. A few booty call relationships, but he had never been with someone the way he is with you.

So you were still a challenge, because he could not allow himself any shortcomings when it came to you.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

That’s a spoiler for the future, but Lucien is more than willing to try everything and he doesn’t really feel any special bond with a particular position.

However he does have a particular group and if you remember what I said in C above, you know where I’m going.

From behind. Seeing your butt shake. He’s an ass man. (would love to try anal if you’d show an intrest in that)

Major bonus points if you turn your head to the side and look at him. With your lovely, beautiful face that he loves oh so much.

He instantly speeds up to the point that no man should ever reach and will happily carry you around for a day or two - you’ll need it.

Because after that there could never be only one round. Or even two or three.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

I wouldn’t call it goofy.

It’s very intense. Almost in a spiritual sense.

For Lucien sex is a metter of high importance. There’s no room for fooling around.

He needs to focus, so afterwards you’re completely spent, blissed and fucked to the point where you could never enjoy sex with any other man.

Toxic trait of this cutesy otome boy - possessiveness, and although he won’t try to control what and with who you do... 

(the man has some dignity and respect for your autonomy)

He will make sure you won’t be able to forget who makes you feel so f*in' good and being ‘goofy’ won’t make the statement.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

I think Lucien would be somewhat groomed, but not bold.

Shaving just isn’t natural and therefore necessarily good for one’s body.

Therefore, if you shave he might try to convince you to stop.

I want to touch a woman, not a girl - he would say.

Carpet matches the drapes (however I like to think that Lucien has ginger pubes dontjudgeme)

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Said first in A, now will be more specific.

With Lucien sex is some kind of a ritual of worship.

It’s a sacrifice for his goddess. His energy, his time, his most attentive care.

Love beams from his eyes even stronger than light does from the sun.

The foreplay will be elongated. You need to come at least twice before he enters you (see T).

During he roams your body with his hands. Boldly, but not aggressively… unless you’d like it.

Afterwards… well, just read A again.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He’s a very busy man, so he doesn’t get many chances, but…

When he can he’s right at it… thinking of that pretty ass of yours.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Lucien is quite kinky.

He's in for anything that doesn’t go under N conditions. Anything. 

Likes bondage. No. He loves it. On you. And blindfolds.

SPANKING.

DOM BOY, but wouldn’t mind to go sub from time to time for you.

You want you to submit thoroughly, so he can thoroughly please you. Give you all that can be given.

Lives for roleplaying.

He also is really into body worship. He will praise you to the point of incredibility. 

See T gir. It’s really an intense game.

Lives to hear you beg for him.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He likes to be in a private, comfortable place, when he doesn’t have to worry about any interruptions or other inconveniences.

Best in your or his place.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

First of all he really needs no convincing.

BUT.

The beast is awake momentarily when you wear his clothes. Like his sweater when you're cold. Or a shirt after a passionate night.

"You make a very nice sight indeed."

Other thing is lingerie. He likes it dark and erotic. Satin and straps. Maybe some nice, sheer mesh.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

No humiliating one another.

Nothing that even comes close to making you feel like he might have attempted to disrespect you.

Also - no outsiders.

And no hiding one another's fantasies. He’s there to please and satisfy you. Don’t take it away from him.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Eghem.

Can you stay up all night

Fuck me till the daylight 

34+35

If you don't get it yet, it means he wants to 69 with you.

All night. Every night.

The taste of you in his mouth is heavenly.

The feeling and sight of your mouth enveloping his groin is pure ecstasy.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He doesn’t have much of a fav.

It all depends on his mood.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Meh...

It’s not like an unacceptable option, but he prefers delayed gratification.

Will agree if you insist, but won’t ever offer.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

OF COURSE. YES. PLEASE.

Why would he ever limit himself to known and obvious, when there might be something far, far superior to what both of you already know.

He enjoys erotic literature. Sometimes reads online articles about interesting positions, toys or new ways to make you come harder and faster.

Won’t shy away from many things. Just remember about what I said in N.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

This man rarely sleeps. Rarely even rests.

This man is a rabbit.

It's more likely you will pass out of exhaustion then that he will take a break from fucking you. Weather it's with his hands, dick, lips or… other things. 

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Speaking of other things.

And fucking.

Lucien invested in a nice collection for the two of you. Vibrators. Rings. Suckers.

He likes to please you in every way he can. 

While the toys take care of you, you suck onto him.

Sometimes you just embrace yourself as the toys take care of your needs. And you go like this for hours. Until you can't take it anymore.

And let's not forget the bondage equipment. Ropes, handcuffs, blindfolds, gags, whips….

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Obvi. What did you expect?

A lot.

For hours.

Until all you’re able to say is “Lucien” and “Please”.

Edging is not negotiable. Happens every time. Often to the point when you come so fast and unexpectedly he just couldn’t stop on time.

Will talk dirty to your ear in public to then “accidently” stroke your nipple or if he feels particularly bold that day - your crotch.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Not shy at all. No shame.

Will moan, groan, pant and hiss all he wants and as loudly as he wants.

Let the neighbors hear. Why would he feel ashamed of fucking you?

LOVES when you do the same.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He would love to take you for a weekend trip. In the mountains. Renting a nice cottage.

Necessarily with a fireplace. And a jacuzzi.

He would have it decorated with many, many gleaming candles. Set all around the cottage.

The soothing music would play.

His fingers would play with your sex while you soak yourselfs in the jacuzzi.

Then he would lay you on a soft carpet in front of the fireplace and make love to you. True, unmistakable love.

It would be a trip to remember for the rest of your lives.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

First off all, see this meme.

He just emanuates that massive dick energy. That’s just facts. No one in the bunch can relate. I’m sorry stans of the other 4, it’s not my fault, don’t @ me.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

High. Very high sometimes.

Okay - usually very high, sometimes extremely high.

All nighters will happen at least once a week unless one of you really has a tough week or just had one and still tries to get everything together.

Otherwise no mercy. His lover needs to have all her needs fulfilled. Lucien would never allow you to walk around hungry or cold. Why would he let you be unsatisfied in this category, silly girl?

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Not right away for sure. 

He wants to watch you fall asleep. And then see those cutest expressions you make in your slumber.

Sometimes he just grabs a book and holds your hand until you wake up.

Other times he isn't able to resist it and falls asleep. You in his arms. His world at peace.

#mlqc #mr love queen's choice #mlqc fanfic #mlqc hc #mlqc headcanon #mlqc lucien #mlqc smut

[robinrequiems]

ok ig cashier damian is my latest hyper fixiation, so let’s add

• Ight so, on fridays, jon cannot come in all the time, very rarely can he. and when he does. he sees a very cute sleepy damian who also wants to punch him:)

• damian is just a mess. he didn’t have time to fix his appearance because as soon as he got out of school, he had to change in a shitty unsanitary grocery store bathroom.

• it was not fucking fun. it never is. damian is so over it. jon normally sees Damian working on homework quickly before putting it away when Jon or other customers show

• damian cannot be asked to look like a normal human being when he just finished 7 sad hours of school in ANOTHER shitty uniform. he hates uniforms

Jon: you look like you’re gonna fall asleep

Damian: ugh, look who it is, the good boy from metropolis who doesn’t look like a creep at all when he comes here just to talk to me. woo hoo!

Jon: nice to see you too

• jon normally sucked on lollipops when he didn’t want to chew on gum, plus sometimes he chews on gum really aggressively and it hurts his jaw

• but let’s talk abt jonny: star athlete ( I’m a simp for athletes jon, please kill me. he’s a basketball player in this though. he got the height for it anyway ), himbo-vibes, and overall sweetheart.

• at least that’s what everyone else thinks. his life is a cycle. A very miserable cycle. It’s honestly tiring and hurts his head and generally takes his mood down

• but then he drove to bludhaven in his new car and brand new license. and he saw him.

• sure he’s seen moody teenagers working at stores before, but this boy; Damian, by his name tag, was different. He SENSED IT

• jon found that he liked different

• damian.. just didn’t easily talk with Jon like so many did at home. he liked a challenge

• and Damian was his challenge

• so he wasted so much gas and time and money to visit him.

• he was so whipped

• he was attracted to him. just the way he did things. like goddamn. ok.

• then his friends and him took a trip there. it was Saturday, they were gonna leave on Sunday. it was for Kathy’s birthday. He had no idea why she wanted to go here.

• oh. yeah. The idiots taken in for underaged drinking. Jon didn’t drink. ( he was a good boy and designated driver ) so he was just there trying to get the officers to let his friends off the hook

Damian: oh look, guess the good boy isn’t really a good boy.

Jon: Damian—? No! I’m here to get my friends out!

Damian: figures, you’re too innocent to do bad things.

Jon: what did you do then?

Damian: well wouldnt my you like to know

Dick: Damian! There you are! Sorry, I was calling up some parents- who is this?

Damian: Good boy.

Dick: ah.

Jon: Jon Kent.. nice to meet you

Dick: wait. As in Clark Kent?

Jon: yeah? that’s my dad

Dick: aw your dad used to babysit me

Damian: can we go now

Dick: hush Damian, I’m feeling nostalgic

• so Damian learned jons name. And jon got to see Damian in regular clothes, so that was cool

• he also got in trouble and couldn’t see Damian for a month because his parents were upset about what happened.. understandable, but jon was still upset

Tai: soo, that was him?:)

Jon: shut up

• tai accidentally found out about cashier boy, it was very funny for tai. not Jon. he teased jon for being whipped.

• sure jon liked damian for his looks at first. then he liked him for him.

Jon: dad, some guy named dick said hi

Clark: jon it isn’t— wait-

Jon: he said you babysat him

Clark: really? You saw him, how did he look? I haven’t seen him since he was a kid!

Jon: um. good?

Clark: where did you see him?

Jon: ..the police place

• his parents put a tracker on jons phone. now they were so confused why their son kept going to Giant Beagle in bludhaven. it was. weird.

• they just- was he meeting someone?? why was he doing this? WAS HE GETTING DRUGS? wait. no. it’s jon. jon couldn’t even stand the smell of cigarettes

Lois: jon.. honey.

Jon: yeah?

Lois: why do you keep driving to bludhaven? I’m worried about you and want to make sure you aren’t doing anything.. bad. Or dangerous.

• granted, it was very dangerous going out there, but he liked it. he liked the thrill of when he got to walk damian back sometimes! HE WAS GETTING CLOSER TO DAMIAN!

• oh also. it turns out damian gave him a fake number

• rude.

• damian always warned him though. and tried to make jon not walk far. jon was.. jon was a good boy. he would never survive in bludhaven frequently, jt worried humored damian.

• sometimes jon came by during the day. Damian’s Sunday shift was in the evening while his Saturday one was in the morning. jon got to go get lunch with him sometimes if Damian felt like there were enough people around that would know if he got kidnapped or not

Damian: why do you bother talking to me? most get bored of me and my attitude.

Jon: I find it charming. you’re fun to talk to. you feel so real. almost everyone in my life feels artificial and like I’m living in a disney Chanel movie.

Damian: *he laughed* oh?

Jon, loving Damians laugh rn: yeah! it’s like they’re.. androids or somethin’.

Damian: why don’t you just find someone snarky from metropolis?

Jon: it wouldn’t be as fun then.

Jon: i like a challenge.

• getting to know damian was like trying to beat the hardest level in his game. it was mind blowing how many times he basically had to restart. Damian was also like a Rubix cube, but jon will get there. He already has 1 side done on it.

Jon: so you live with your brother?

Damian: yes.

Jon: nice

• jon didn’t pry. Damian and dick had became forgotten after bruces death, a lot of the kids did. they just all disappeared from the media like ghosts.

• so jon didn’t know that dick wasn’t his blood relative, or that Damian was Bruce’s child. no one really did

• it wasn’t like it mattered though anyways

Damian: basketball is lame.

Jon: have you ever played?

Damian: yes. it sucked ass

• jon has helped Damian restocked late at night sometimes. Damian doesn’t like him touching things, but the faster he does it, faster he can go home to get his pets, alfred, and his idiot brother

Damian: you waste a lot of gas coming to see me.

Jon: it’s worth it.

• jon had to get a job. boo. he worked on days he didn’t have practice and sadly, on sundays.

• he was a worker at a small cafe, he was just a waiter there

• and then one day, on a Sunday, Damian came in with a few people. WAIT DAMIAN CAME IN

Jon: DAMIAN

Damian, clearly startled: what the fuck, jon!

Jon: why’re you here! how long are you staying! ARE TOU REALLY HERE!

Maya: is this who you were talking about?

Damian: shut up.. but calm down, idiot.

Damian: .. you got a haircut.

Jon: you- you noticed? sorry I couldn’t come this week. was busy this week and needed to catch up on sleep.

Damian:’it’s fine. I guess I really should give you my number now.

Colin: that was smooth

Jon: really?

Damian: mhm. after you seat us, dumbass.

Jon: oh right

• and Damian did give jon his number

• a real one dw

Maps: he was cute.. he single?

Maya: he wouldn’t be single if Damian just manned up

Colin: they practically just stared at each other the whole time when they thought the other wasn’t looking

Damian: wait he was looking at me?

Maya: oh damians so whipped.

• oh how the cashier is falling for the waiter

• sounds like a hallmark film.

• next week jon did end up visiting him in ‘haven, and drove him home.

• damians feet were hurting and he was tired so he didn’t even bother to argue.

• jon couldn’t come to visit his favorite cashier during winters a lot, he may of liked his new “dangerous” life, but he heard how bad the roses could get from Damian

• damian was a bit sad and moody because of that. but shut up. you don’t know anything dick

Dick: you know.. you should invite him inside

Damian: so you can embarrass me? no thank you.

Dick: me? embarrass you? never. but come on, you have never shown interested in anyone before! I wanna meet him!

Damian: you already did. At the police station. you forget or something?

Dick: .. that wasn’t really the best first meeting. come on. please?

Damian: no.

#cashier damian #Damian wayne #jon kent #au #rambles #damijon

[ajaxwrites]

GENSHIN IMPACT FANFIC REC LIST II

(previous: part i)

Seaglass by Aevas

There was more to the contract than a gnosis and test of Liyue. It seemed like a simple deal five hundred years ago: so long as Morax never had a soulmate, the Tsaritsa would never harm Liyue and she would not get his gnosis. But the moment he gained a soulmate, all that belonged to him was forfeit. He thought the deal left Liyue safe—he'd lived thousands of years without a soulmate. The Tsaritsa would be dead and gone by the time she'd have a chance to collect.

Five hundred years later, Childe appears in Liyue, Zhongli gains a soulmate mark, and everything falls apart.

(The obligatory soulmate AU, featuring a Zhongli with PTSD, an oblivious Childe, and demon-worshipping cultists.)

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: I CANNOT BELIEVE I SLEPT ON THIS FIC FOR SO LONG. Read it and I mean it! I admitted initially steered clear of this fic because I wasn’t comforted with a soulmate tartali fic pre-Osial but this fic is actually post-Ostial *facepalm* The writing is phenomenal and Aevas does some beautiful worldbuilding that you typically don’t see in Genshin Impact fics. I love the dynamic between Childe and Zhongli here and the angst is real. The author writes the two as very human characters who makes mistakes, etc. and notably Zhongli struggles with the concept of Childe as his soulmate (who understandably is upset by the rejection when he realizes). They get better though. Also very plotty. A+ writing.

it's a hard rock life for us by reptilianraven

“Ah, no need to worry about that,” Azhdaha waves a dismissive hand. “There is no real Kun Jun. He’s dead.”

A leaf blows past and plaps onto Aether’s face.

“You killed him???” Paimon screeches.

“No,” Azhdaha scrunches his eyebrows. “He was dead when I found him.”

“And you just decided to wear his corpse?” Aether says, leaf still on his face.

He shrugs. “It was free real estate.”

“Azhdaha...” Morax says, sounding vaguely pained.

-

Or the one where Historia Antiqua Chapter II: No Mere Stone goes a little bit different and Azhdaha gets more time.

He ultimately uses that time to bully Morax into confronting his immortal neuroses, to make Aether and Paimon suffer, and to figure out how to get that ginger boy Morax has his eye on to make a move already.

Ships: Zhongli/Childe, Past Azhdaha/Zhongli

Notes: Very lighthearted, humor-filled fic. Love how Azhdaha is so flippant. Interactions with Zhongli and Childe are pure gold.

if there's a light at the end, it's just the sun in your eyes by moonlight_mist

Childe has a Weapon problem- specifically, that he can't keep one.

He's too reckless, too wild, and too keen on pushing his Weapon partners past their limits. He's just about ready to give up when he meets Zhongli, a Weapon who just might be the solution- so long as Childe can manage to keep his dick in his pants.

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: This is a Soul Eater AU with some college/university AU vibes (?) but you don’t really need to know much about the anime. It’s a cute AU and I love the premise. Light angst but otherwise, it’s a pretty semi-plotty fic. Easter egg Kaeya and Diluc though.

To Kill A God by IlluminanceinTales

In Snezhnaya, they call them sansis—lost souls that have no guidance but themselves. It’s an apt description, given that most of the time, wannabe-Archons have to go through dozens of tests with nothing as their reference, relying solely on their wit and strength and hoping it would be enough. At least, until they survive the end of the whole game—and they might not have to undergo a painful reincarnation which feels like a hundred bones being stitched together again.

On his seventh game, Childe Tartaglia reincarnates this time in the body of a young man.

Damn, he thinks, looking down at his thin body, his slightly calloused fingers. This won’t be good when facing the other Hydro Decisions.

In a world where an Archon's position is not chosen but fought for in games, Childe Tartaglia is a Hydro Decision who's poised to become the next Hydro Archon. Of course, that's only if he survives his seventh reincarnation. All would be so much easier if it weren't for a certain Geo Archon interfering with every possible chance he gets.

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: Think Hunger Games meet Political Intrigue meet Genshin Impact. Love the premise and world building that’s done. Features overprotective Zhongli and lots of Childe whump. Has one or two supplementary OCs that aren’t really important outside of plot device reasons. Warning for character death tho lmao.

Three's a Family by IlluminanceinTales

Childe finds a kid that looks just like him.

Of course Zhongli wants to keep him.

Or: How a harbinger and an archon accidentally become fathers. The kid is their wingman

Ships: Childe/Zhongli (?)

Notes: Your everyday cute AF kid fic. Fluffy as hell and super cute. Zhongli and Childe get domestic pretty quickly. Xiao gets dubbed a grandfather and begrudgingly plays along. Super wholesome.

in pitch dark i go walking in your landscape by snowbrigade

He glanced down at him, at the silvery scars peeking out from beneath his robe, and at his eyes, properly now. They were the bright blue of high quality noctilucous jade, but he could see it, an underlying darkness.

Zhongli wondered what his eyes betrayed about himself. --

Rex Lapis is dead. Zhongli, formerly known as triad leader Rex Lapis, is a detective investigating his own "death." Childe, also known as Tartaglia of the Fatui mafia, is undercover as an escort looking to kill Rex Lapis- until someone beats him to it, and he wants to know who. Goals intersecting, they form a partnership of ulterior motives.

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: There’s like one scene that skews NSFW but otherwise surprisingly not explicit. Really fun AU. Like how the author addresses Childe’s reaction to being stuck with the undercover escort stuff and how the dynamic between the two develops. Pretty plotty so far.

Phantom Lines by iskendaris

“It’s a measure of one’s self, Mr Zhongli.” Childe says. “Maybe you don’t understand it since you work as a consultant, but as an ambassador from the Tsaritsa, as one who fights in her name— this is how I learn to know the measure of myself.” “I understand,” Zhongli says thoughtfully. “It is a warrior’s way, to test one’s strength against the incomparable. To find where one falls short. To find where one has risen to the challenge.”

In which Childe has insomnia, vandalizes public property and runs into a mysterious funeral consultant on his first night in Liyue.

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: THE FEELS. I can only describe this as the fic where Zhongli pays Best Boyfriend Ever only to FUCK UP big time (via Gnosis deception). Poor, poor Childe. Look, he gave the boy feelings and then broke him. You can really feel Childe fall in love in this love. He also does mental swooning a lot lmao. 

adventitious by Anonymous

It's said the Ley Lines remember all things that happen in this world, from the surface down to the deepest depths... But in the hidden corners where the Gods' gaze does not fall, there are those who dream of dreaming.

There's a dormant bud where Kaeya's eye once was. One day, it will bloom. (Never forget: memory is untrustworthy.)

Ships: Diluc/Kaeya

Notes: I don’t even know where to start. This is very headcanony and lore-focused. Very much concentrated on Khaenri'ah. The implications of this story is grotesque to say the least (according to this fic, Visions are the literal eyes of the people of Khaenri'ah). Warnings for eye and body horror.

Without Those Dark Memories by StrangeDiamond

Diluc awakens in Stormterror’s Lair with no memories of the past five years. Kaeya is on the trail of a rogue alchemist, with a habit of testing his chemicals on unwilling human subjects. Now, in addition to capturing the criminal, Kaeya has to shake him down for an antidote . . . and deal with an amnesiac Diluc who acts exactly like he did before their brotherhood fell apart. (Standalone Fic.)

Ships: Diluc/Kaeya

Notes: This is sort of a classic amnesia fic. I particularly really liked the way that Kaeya was written in this. I feel like the author did a really good job nailing his character and they have a way of capturing the subtle things.

Through the warmth, through the cold by strikedawn

“It’s you!” Paimon shouted with a twirl in mid-air.

“…Excuse me?"

They were drunk. Were they drunk? Was he drunk? Because Kaeya had the feeling his guests had been talking to him for a while now, but none of their words had made any sense whatsoever.

That was, until Venti stepped firmly in front of Kaeya’s desk and set his hands on the top, the better to lean over towards Kaeya and say: “For the end of the Windblume festival, Sir Kaeya Alberich, we’re going to auction a date with you.”

Ships: Diluc/Kaeya

Notes: Shortword, Kaeya gets auctioned off. Diluc makes impulsive (but good) decisions and scores himself a Date but displays an inability to do Date Planning. Venti deserves a pat on the back. Very sweet.

Hide and Seek by Kiri_Kaitou_Clover

Childe did not expect regaining his memories would bring him such frustration.

He makes the best of the situation by messing with one amber eyed consultant in anyway he can.

A reincarnated storm god wades through life in Liyue, all while screaming about one dragon god's incompetency at being human.

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: Features Childe as Osial’s very exasperated reincarnation, who gets the joy of discovering that his rival/enemy Morax is not only an idiot but also broke AF. He still falls in love anyway. Contains this golden line: 

"Did... did that complete blockhead really use my money in order to get me a gift that basically says that he is proposing to me?!"

(Osial was screaming. When had the other god become like this?! Had he always been like this?!)

Getting that Bread by tzitzimeme

Concubine AU where Zhongli is Emperor, Xiao is an assassin sent to kill him while disguised as a woman in his imperial harem, and the only reason he doesn't actually do it is because he pities Zhongli for being so catastrophically stupid (also Xiao falls in love).

Ships: Zhongli/Xiao

Notes: Like Xiao says, Zhongli is an idiot. Fluff and humor filled. Xiao spends a good 95% of this exasperated by Zhongli’s bullshit. 

prayers for a boy by Recluse

The only way to reconciliation is fierce combat!

Hm... Come to think of it, there will be a lot of interesting news to be heard the next time we gather for drinks. Filling in the blanks.

Ships: N/A

Notes: I...don’t really know where to begin with this? It’s exactly what the summary implies...but more? I was tempted to describe this as the fic where Zhongli puts his foot in his mouth but...that’s not exactly write? I feel like this was more of a character study. It explores the aftermath of the Osial Incident and how Zhongli and Childe reconnect. Platonically...though I guess it can be read romantically. 

one kind of longing, two places of sorrow by lady_peony

Zhongli's hands rest behind his back, both gloved hands clasping one another. His fingers tighten around one another for the merest moment, before he relaxes his grip.

"There is a tradition in Liyue," Zhongli says, his back still to Childe standing behind him, "of inviting out a companion to a last meal before a farewell."

A pause.

"A tradition?" Childe echoes.

"Yes."

"With a companion?"

"Yes."

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: The fic where neither of the two communicate about jackshit but go on a quiet, sad not-date before Childe leaves for Snezhnaya. Childe pulls (? on accident or on purpose, I can not tell) the equivalent of leaving the jacket in the car post-date to get date to call for the second date. Also, the author has a gift for like...writing angst...without writing angst? Like the whole fic is like brimming with everything that the characters aren’t saying but the thoughts aren’t necessarily written out BUT YOU KNOW THOSE DUMBFUCKS ARE JUST LIKE. BRIMMING WITH FEELS? 

The People of Liyue by queer_occurrences

But Zhongli whispers, his low voice rooted in the back of Childe’s mind. “Changsun, the merchant, who is never too Mora-enthralled to turn away a needy child. There’s Tiantian—she will allow anyone to join the Adventurer’s Guild—she knows what it is to be desperate.”

Childe ducks away from them and hurries out over the bridge. It’s a warm, sunny day, the kind he would have complained about, whining about his delicate Snezhnayan skin. “It’ll burn, or worse, freckle. Would you still like me if I was freckled?”

Then Zhongli would say, “The people of Liyue will remember your sacrifice.” And he would wrinkle his nose.

Or: after it all goes down, Childe takes a walk.

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: The author has a way with perfectly balancing angst with humor in a way that makes you cackle. There’s a lot of feels in this one. Zhongli tries communicating--Childe runs away a lot. There’s a lot of love for Liyue in this one.

cold blooded, warm blooded, hearts all the same by reptilianraven

Teyvat Petting Zoo @tyvtpettingzoo

Well would you look at that! Zhongli, our resident spinytail iguana, has gotten quite cozy with Childe, our new (and very feisty) ginger ferret! Aren’t they adorable all cuddled together like this? 😍😍😍

[Attached image shows a brown spinytail iguana curled up against a ginger ferret. The iguana’s head is nuzzled under the snout of the ferret.]

-

At the Teyvat Petting Zoo, Zhongli and Childe fall in love.

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: ...I promise I’m not weird. This is just super cute. Cross-species love affair? Childe the ferret is very besotted. The internet is confused and the zoo keepers are just done.

a geo archon's guide to the modern era by Erina

“Morax,” Xiao says after Zhongli finishes his retelling of the incident. “He thinks you’re a weirdo.”

“No, don’t say that,” Barbatos snickers. “You’ll give him hope that this is salvageable.” He lowers his voice. “Morax, he thinks you’re a boomer.”

(In which Zhongli hibernates for centuries and wakes up in the modern world)

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: This took me, I shit you not, FIVE SEPARATE ATTEMPTS to read. Not because it was bad but BECAUSE THE SECOND HAND EMBARRASSMENT WAS REAL. Like, omg, just reading about Zhongli’s introduction to modernity made me want to dig a hole and die. Super funny though. Do not read in public or you will look like a lunatic. Has a...parallel (?) fic in the same series called  buy two get one archon free where Zhongli gets reversed isekai’d into an anime convention.

time flies like an arrow by Erina

He’s tired, tired of the unbreakable loop of watching his loved ones pass on, tired of getting attached only for the connection to be violently ripped away from him. He wonders if the real victors during the Archon War were those who perished, who died long before their godhood turned into a curse that chained them to the land that they were fighting for.

But that is not a problem for Childe to worry about. That is Zhongli’s burden to bear, delivered to him in a pretty package years ago in the form of a gnosis.

His very first contract.

(Zhongli and Childe, across many lifetimes)

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: This is a quiet fic. It’s this kind of slice-of-life fic colored by this overpowering sense of love and loss as Zhongli remains immortal and Childe dies and lives and dies and lives for hundreds of lifetimes, but always finds his way back to his geo archon. It’s so lovely but also unbearably sad.

Tartaglia’s Favorite Professor by GreyLiliy

The famed hitman Tartaglia of the Fatui Syndicate spends his days as the charming college student Childe. The two lives remain as separate as possible in order to maintain a flawless cover to keep the authorities off his back and to better serve the Tsaritsa.

However, new intel about a rival syndicate intersects his two lives in a way he could never have predicted.

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: Mafia AU meet College AU. Childe is somehow both a horny AF college student and murderous hitman. Zhongli gives off major DILF vibes. GreyLily somehow makes this work while also avoiding cringe. Highly recommended!

like a handprint on my heart by fallingintodivinity

“Strictly off-the-record,” Jean says, with a small smile, “I’m really happy to see you and Captain Kaeya getting along again, Master Diluc.”

“We’re not – we’re not getting along,” Diluc tells her, indignant. “We’re working together. Unwillingly, I might add.”

“Yes – oh, yes, of course.”

Diluc stares at Jean suspiciously. “Are you laughing at me?”

Jean clears her throat primly. “I would never.”

Ships: Diluc/Kaeya

Notes: Super, super cute! Sort of reads like a first date fic except genshin impact style? Writing style is very refreshing!

#genshin impact #genshin impact fanfic #fanfic rec #rec list #zhongli/childe #childe/zhongli #tartali #chili #diluc./kaeya #luckae #fanfiction #took a while but i have been steadily reading my way through the fandom #still not all my recs #but you can check my ao3 for what i'm reading lmao

[taexual]

i’d love you to stay but that’s simply insane // JJK (16)

     jungkook is an uncontrollable lead vocalist of the campus band, and you’re a goal-oriented top student that’s known his rich and complicated family since childhood. you don’t want anything to do with each other, until each other is exactly what you want to do.

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: college au

warnings: angst

words: 6.6k

     chapter sixteen

Despite deciding not to make your already uncomfortable situation even more awkward by discussing your kiss, Jungkook could not stop thinking about it the entire drive back to your dormitory. Actually, he’d been thinking about the kiss nearly every moment since it happened, but with you in the car next to him, his thoughts became clearer. More defined. More vibrant.

If he’d have closed his eyes – not a good idea for someone who was behind the wheel of a car; but it wasn’t like Jungkook was above entertaining bad ideas – he swore he could return to that moment when he had you underneath him on his bed, your mouth against his, right before his mother knocked on the door and interrupted you.

What would have happened if she hadn’t knocked?

“You okay?” you asked suddenly, the question startling him.

“Hmm?” he nearly swerved off the road, answering you in a high-pitched voice, “yeah. Why?”

“You just inhaled really—nevermind,” you changed your mind – it was better to stay quiet all the way home. But, aware how weird your question seemed without any explanations, you mumbled under your breath, “thought you were suffocating or something.”

Jungkook hadn’t realized his breath got caught in his throat every time he remembered kissing you, but it made sense; his body needed to give up every other activity—no matter how crucial for his survival it was—in order to make enough space in his mind to fully immerse itself into the memory.

The memory was so important to him because, based on the way you shifted closer to the door and further away from him in his car, he could tell that even the lingering possibility of bringing the kiss up made you close off. So the chance of it happening again – him, getting you to lower your guards down enough to allow another kiss – was so slim, it was incredible he hadn’t given up yet.

“So, I take it you won’t make it to my gig this Friday, then,” Jungkook said when he entered the campus, nodding at the barrier guard through his window before turning to look at you to show you that, no, he wasn’t going to try to get you to talk about last weekend, but also, no, he wasn’t going to completely let this go, either.

“No,” you said with a quick glance his way, the barbecue at his father’s company written in red letters in your mental itinerary. “Not this Friday. Sorry.”

He thought this over – “this” Friday meant that next Friday still had an opening. He liked these odds.

“Text me if my dad gets too crazy, yeah?” Jungkook asked as he pulled into the parking lot of your dormitory. “I’ll make sure to reply with tips on how to get him to leave you alone.”

“No, you’ll be in the middle of your performance,” you said – expressing your appreciation for his concern by giving him a warm smile – and then dismissed him with a wave of your hand, “I’ll find a way to handle it.”

Stopping the car right in front of the entrance – but not shutting the engine off which was, both, terrible for the environment and also not a very smart idea socially, considering that people were already watching your every step, and they were absolutely going to hear Jungkook’s car – he turned to look at you with a very determined expression on his face.

“If you don’t think I can find a way to include answering texts in my set list, I have news for you,” he said and you thought he was joking – just being reassuring – but the look in his eyes told a different story.

Your smile widened despite your protests. “Alright, noted. But don’t worry about me. Just let me know when you’re done with your gig.”

Jungkook – who’d never had to report his whereabouts to anyone before – found himself nodding eagerly.

“You too,” he said. “I mean, text me when that whole social gathering is over. I can drive over there to take you home.”

“No,” you protested again, “you have an after-party to get to. I’ll make my own way home. Don’t worry—”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” he countered, using your own argument against you, “I will come get you out of there early if you’ll need me to. No matter what I’m doing.”

The look on his face was resolute and, for a moment, you considered that perhaps this was his way of showing you that he didn’t want you to go to the company barbecue at all – especially not when he couldn’t be there to supervise and make sure the real story of your relationship remained well hidden behind the tale you’d created for his parents – but then, Jungkook looked down and refuted these thoughts.

“Thank you for doing this,” he said. “My dad already had that look on his face – the scowl he saved for me only – because he’d been expecting me to refuse to come all along, but then you… well, you softened the blow.”

“I didn’t soften it much if he still looked at you like that,” you said, lowering your eyes just as Jungkook raised his.

“No, you did. I’d have gone home, thinking—no, knowing—that I’d let him down yet again,” he said, “and that often has interesting consequences—”

You raised your eyebrows. “That’s one way to put it.”

“Right. But now I get to go home and worry about you being there alone with my family and their colleagues, so that gives me something else to occupy myself with.”

You could have insisted that you weren’t a damsel in distress and could figure out your own way out of a tricky situation if you had to, but you chose to let him have this one. If thinking about this kept him out of trouble while you were out of campus and, possibly, unable to reach him in time, then so be it.

“That’s hardly a better way to spend your time, but if that’s what you’re into these days…” you replied with humor and Jungkook – who could tell that you were only saying this so you’d stop going back and forth with him – forced himself to smile.

“You’re rubbing off on me,” he said. “I’m starting to develop this need to constantly be in control of everything.”

Your mouth opened in genuine surprise and then – almost comically – opened wider still, when you decided to add a more dramatic effect to your reaction, so you could conceal the fact that the portrayal of you, as a control freak, had honestly upset you. 

But you couldn’t express your feelings out loud because, admittedly, he was right, you did like to be in control of your surroundings. Shamelessly so, too, because you didn’t think it was wrong to know about everything that involved you.

“That’s not good,” you said. “We can’t both be in control. We’ll clash.”

“If we do, I hope it will be as epic as Harry versus Voldemort.”

You snickered at this, the tension in your shoulders lightening. “I take it you’re Voldemort?”

Jungkook looked positively outraged by this assumption. “Of course not! I’m The Chosen One.”

Now you were full-on laughing. And The Chosen One – who, technically, could have actually been called The Boy Who Lived after all the life-threatening stunts he’d pulled since starting puberty – smiled, beyond proud of himself.

Smiling at each other for several seconds – that could have been minutes or even hours for all you cared; it only felt like one blink of an eye to you anyway – you felt your chest fill with affection. That tended to happen sometimes, especially when you’d been dreading a situation – The Talk About the Sunday Night Kiss – and then managed to successfully make it out alive – by using a method, commonly referred to as, Staying Quiet and Changing the Topic.

“I meant what I said, though,” you spoke and the relief that you didn’t have to endure the awkward ‘so… what do we do now?’ question washed over you with a warm wave. “I’ll be fine tomorrow.”

You had leaned closer him as you said this – it was a natural instinct: reaching out to touch someone’s hand (or, uh-oh, cheek!) for more effect – but you froze mid-way, hanging awkwardly over the console of his car and regretting your very existence because you’d noticed how Jungkook stopped breathing when you moved closer, and how quickly his breathing returned to him – in the form of a disappointed huff – when you suddenly stopped.

“Thank you for taking me to the meeting today,” you ended up blurting as you pulled back, your eyes now firmly locked on the handle of the door.

“Yeah. It’s nothing,” he replied and, somehow, that was it.

The eternity you always spent in his car when he dropped you off in front of your dormitory had suddenly come to an end and, because of how weird it was to leave without saying goodbye – but, then again, were you supposed to hug? Kiss? – your hand lingered on the handle numbly, only pushing the door open a minute later.

Paradoxically, relief and concern both flooded your brain as soon as you stepped one foot outside but then, before you could exit his car, you felt him take hold of your wrist – not pulling you back per se, but holding onto you firmly enough to stop you from moving.

“Hey,” Jungkook said. You were mid-step, so you had to fully exit the car and lean down to look at him.

“Hmm?” you asked, your wrist still in his grip even though he had successfully captured your attention.

“D-don’t…” he tried to say, mumbling the rest of the words under his breath. You frowned, not hearing him, and were about to lean forward to ask what he’d said, when he cleared his throat and tried again, “let’s not be weird around each other, okay? We know each other far too long for that.”

Your plan to keep your mouth shut and divert his attention to different topics had, clearly, only succeeded in part, because Jungkook was addressing last Sunday night, after all, but he didn’t dare to bring the kiss up directly. And his acknowledgement of the fact that you were too stuck in your own head to let him talk to you about the kiss specifically, made it all worse.

“Yeah,” you said then. “I wouldn’t want things to suddenly be weird between us.”

“So, let’s not make it weird,” he said, nodding and reluctantly letting go of your hand. “Don’t forget to text me tomorrow.”

“I won’t,” you pulled your hand back and, with one last smile – that looked forced, uncomfortable and weird; all the things you didn’t want it to look like – you walked away from his car and back to your dorm, ready for Inna’s tirade of questions. Questions that you had no answers to.

What surprised you about the company barbecue on Friday afternoon wasn’t the fact that Inna hadn’t demanded to know all the details of the event when you told her where you’d be going, or the fact that all of the people you’d seen at the bi-yearly meeting on Thursday, were now dressed in red aprons like your friendly neighborhood dads.

It was the fact that Namjoon, of all people, was dressed like one of those dads, too.

“Hey!” you exclaimed, evidently shocked to run into him here. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Oh, hi!” Namjoon seemed just as surprised but he shook your hand – which was his go-to way of saying hello to people, as you’ve learned – and smiled, explaining, “I’m interning here, actually. What about you?”

You were thrown off balance by your surprise – the two of you had talked about your plans for the future before, sharing your ambitions with each other, and yet you didn’t know that he was an intern here – but recovered a moment later to explain yourself.

“Oh, I’m—the CEO is an old family friend, so I’m here as a courtesy of sorts,” you said, feeling self-conscious when you saw Namjoon raise his eyebrows after he learned about this connection. “I was supposed to come earlier to help you set up but my roommate was leaving for the weekend, and she—well, anyway. I’m only here to get acquainted with the company, really.”

Contrary to what you’d expected him to ask you next, Namjoon wondered, “do you see yourself here in the future?”

Even though he didn’t inquire about your biography outright – “were your parents powerful and influential businessmen as well?” – his question did seem to insinuate that you may start working here purely because of your relationship to the head of the company.

“Maybe,” you replied, realizing how privileged you were to be here when you weren’t even a part of the company yet. “What has it been like, interning here?”

“Oh, it’s been okay. It’s the only company that took me in,” he spoke and you felt yourself exhale in relief after you lost the spotlight. “The others weren’t looking for interns. Or they needed interns with a job experience that spanned more than my college career.”

You scoffed, understanding what he meant very well because you’d been there, too. “How does that make sense?”

“It doesn’t,” Namjoon said with a sigh. “And that’s why I’m here.”

“So, this wasn’t your first choice?” you asked.

“No, but I don’t regret coming here,” he replied. “It’s a nice work environment. The people are very welcoming and helpful, which isn’t something you see a lot of in corporate businesses.”

Sadly, some of the people here weren’t very welcoming in their personal lives, you thought bitterly, remembering Jungkook and his father’s tense relationship. You chose not to mention that, however, because it didn’t seem like the right thing to do.

“I hope you’re not here for work, though,” you said instead, smiling as you watched Namjoon laugh awkwardly and nod at the beef patties on a plate next to the grill.

“No,” he said. “But they did put me on grilling duty – which wasn’t very smart of them, considering how terrible I am around things that can burst into flames – so I do have some hefty responsibilities today.”

You chuckled. “I could help you. I’ve done my fair share of barbecuing when I was growing up. Let me just leave my handbag somewhere—”

“The gazebo over there,” Namjoon pointed at the far end of the camping grounds, “they’ve turned it into a coat room. You could leave it there,” he looked at you and, catching his own eagerness, explained, “I would really appreciate your help. I don’t want my internship to end prematurely because I’d poisoned everyone with my poor cooking.”

Giving him a sympathetic grin, you assured him, “that won’t happen. At least, not on my watch. I’ll be right back!”

As you’d learned once you got back to the grill and started to assist Namjoon – or, allowed him to assist you – Jungkook’s father hadn’t even arrived yet. Him and his wife – according to a very chatty woman who was Namjoon’s supervisor – were supposed to come a little while later and then, following tradition, they would take a picture with the rest of the employees, sit down for a meal, and leave within an hour.

This barbecue may have been a nice social gathering for the employees of his company, but it was strictly a formality for Jungkook’s father.

“Still, it’s nice,” Namjoon said once the woman left you two to finish grilling the sausages and the patties alone, “not many CEOs bother to interact with the lower-rank employees at company events. At least, not in my experience. My dad didn’t even know what his boss looked like and he’d worked for the same company for twenty years.”

“It sounds impossible in today’s day and age, though, with everyone being on social media,” you pointed out.

“Of course. But you don’t always recognize people from social media in real life. So, it’s nice that even I, an intern, have a chance to see the CEO of the company with my own eyes. And maybe even meet him.”

“Hmm, sure,” you nodded with an unconcerned shrug. “It is nice of him, I suppose.”

Namjoon noticed your nonchalance and he knew that the reason why you couldn’t relate to him in this particular situation was because you had nothing to get excited about – you had already met the CEO.

“You said he was a family friend?” Namjoon asked you. “So, you know him quite well, then?”

You paused grilling for a second to look at him but he was watching the food to make sure it didn’t burn. And that was even better, since it gave you more time to come up with an abridged version of your relationship with Jungkook’s father.

“Yeah, uh… my mom and his wife had been best friends growing up,” you said, “and they’re still very close to this day. Now that they’re both married, their families got involved in the friendship, too. He’s always been kind to me but my knowledge of him comes from Jungkook’s point of view, so I’m probably—”

Namjoon finally looked away from the sizzling grill to get you to back up. “Wait, Jungkook?”

“Yeah, we—” you paused, realizing that he wasn’t confused about your friendship with Jungkook but, rather, about Jungkook, being the son – and the heir apparent – of the CEO. “The company—i-it belongs to Jungkook’s father.”

“Oh,” Namjoon mumbled, looking away as this revelation rendered him speechless for a quick minute. “Oh.”

You didn’t know what to make of this “oh”, so you tried to clear the air with a chuckle.

“I, uh—I had thought that was common knowledge on campus,” you said.

“I—maybe it is, I don’t really keep up w-with that,” he admitted. “I just assumed he was popular because of Parental Advisory.”

“He is,” you nodded, “but coming from a rich family probably didn’t hinder his way to the top very much.”

“No,” he snickered, “it probably didn’t. So, uh, is he coming here, too?”

You had picked up a pair of tongs from the folding table nearby and used them to flip the patties before you answered. That was why you didn’t notice how much Namjoon struggled to process this new information. You couldn’t ask him what was it about Jungkook that caused Namjoon to have such a hard time dealing with this news.

“No,” you said, still not looking at him as you focused on the grill. “He’s got a show tonight.”

“Ah, so his band comes first,” Namjoon said in a voice that would have been humorous—in a sarcastic way—if it wasn’t so acidic.

You stopped what you were doing to give the boy next to you a surprised look.

“Well—not necessarily,” you said and then tried to find a way to explain why Jungkook was the way he was without getting into too many unnecessary and overly-complicated details, “he cares about both, but he’s not—he’s got, uh, some issues with—”

“With being civil in front of his father’s employees?” Namjoon interjected sharply.

You blinked. “He—”

“God, sorry,” he blurted suddenly, putting the metal spatula down on the grill before realizing that this wasn’t a good idea and picking it back up again. He sounded exasperated as he tried to take his previous question back, “I don’t know why I’m coming off so angry about this. I was just surprised. I did hear that the CEO had a son who was presumably going to take over the company one day, but I didn’t think it was… you know.”

You didn’t know, but you could guess that Jungkook’s bad reputation preceded him and even people, who claimed not to judge others without getting to know them first, couldn’t help but judge first.

Namjoon sounded disappointed when he talked about him. Worse, he sounded displeased and even choked as he spoke, trying to cover up his own frustration so he could remain impeccably respectful like he always was – or tried to be.

He tried to avoid stereotypes but you’d gotten glimpses of his real attitude at the library when he’d revealed his assumptions about the members of Parental Advisory, guessing – and getting it right – that the members were a “troubled bunch”.

You’d admired his restraint from any further assumptions that could have shown his prejudice. But now his respectfulness irked you because it hid his real feelings and made it almost impossible for you to defend Jungkook without sounding like you were overreacting.

“There’s still a long way before Jungkook can take over,” you said, focusing on the tongs in your hands and the way they clapped with a metallic yelp each time you clicked them together. “He’s working on it and his father definitely isn’t cutting him any slack just because he’s his son.”

“Right, I wasn’t—”

“But you probably know that if you work here,” you continued, yours words coming out in a batch of agitation that Namjoon could not interrupt, “there aren’t any exclusive employees here. Everyone is being treated the same, regardless of their connection to the staff higher up.”

“No, of course!” he exclaimed before you could continue. “I didn’t mean to imply—although, I guess I did imply that he had certain guarantees that other people didn’t, which is true, of course, with him being the son of the CEO. But I didn’t mean to make it sound like he wouldn’t deserve the chief executive position. I’m sure his father wouldn’t give it to him if he didn’t think Jungkook was worth it.”

“Yeah,” you said, swallowing hard. “He wouldn’t.”

Namjoon wasn’t going to say anything else about this – he’d already said too much – but the way you went straight for his throat when he misspoke about Jungkook, shed a new light on your relationship with him. It intrigued Namjoon even if he wasn’t fascinated by you in a romantic sense.

His interest in your relationship with Jungkook was mostly understandable, though – the two of you were so different on the surface, one could only wonder what was it that attracted you to each other.

Well, apparently, there were depths to the reckless lead vocalist of the campus band that Namjoon didn’t know about.

“I’ve heard he treats everyone here like family,” Namjoon said, trying to make his voice sound light as he shifted the topic from the son to the father.

“I’ve heard that, too,” you agreed, your voice still on edge. “The man has a great reputation around here.”

“He’s sort of living up to it, too,” Namjoon said and you saw him nod in the direction of the road that ran along the north side of the camping grounds.

You turned your head to see Jungkook’s father step out of his car, with his wife following after, from the other side. He shook hands with the few people who came to greet him. 

He had a wide smile on his face – a smile that you couldn’t remember seeing in a very long time, but now that you did, you realized how similar him and Jungkook were: both of them seemed to lose ten years of their age when they smiled.

“He kind of looks like he’s running a presidential campaign,” you said, observing the scene as Jungkook’s father greeted his employees – some with a good-natured hug, others with a wave.

Namjoon glanced at you and, relieved to see that your mind was no longer lingering on your previous conversation, laughed. “Maybe a bit, yeah.”

Within moments of Jungkook’s father’s arrival, the campgrounds were in an uproar: everyone was busy grilling their last bits of food and arranging it in a way that would look the most appetizing.

The plate of food you and Namjoon had grilled definitely wasn’t the easiest on the eyes, but none of the food seemed under-cooked or burned, so both of you were content with that. 

Then, just as you were about to pick the food up and carry it over to the structure tent in the center of the grounds, you were reminded that time for dinner hadn’t arrived yet.

The traditional picture had to come first.

You felt a lot like you did on picture day back at school – with one of the employees ordering everyone around, demanding they squat, scooch closer, smile wider, turn their heads, and move to the back because their clothing is too flashy – and that was what you told Namjoon when the two of you found yourselves standing side-by-side in front of the camera, very close to Jungkook’s father himself.

“I think it’s worse than it was at school,” Namjoon whispered back, glancing at the other employees and their wide smiles, “but, at least, we don’t have to wear uniforms.”

You scoffed. “Yes. Wearing dark red aprons is better.”

“This awful color makes us all more united,” he said, looking over your shoulder and accidentally meeting the eye of his CEO, who was making sure you weren’t standing too far from him, because he considered you to be his guest and, therefore, he had to make sure you received the best treatment. Namjoon figured as much, as he cleared his throat and straightened his posture.

Finally, the photographer – or, actually, the Head of Human Resources with his new Samsung – took the picture, making sure the flash blinded each and every single person posing for him. And then he took another picture. And then another one. And then a few more for good measure.

You thought you’d blinked in all of them but you hoped to never see those pictures anyway. They probably hung them up in the lobby to remind everyone who went into the building that this was a very friendly environment to work in, but the actual employees never really looked at the pictures.

It was almost funny how wrong you were about that.

“Such a pleasure to see you here,” Jungkook’s father said, approaching you as soon as the people broke apart from their designated positions and pretended to mingle while, really, they waited for the director to finish talking and lead them to the main tent for dinner.

“Thank you very much for inviting me,” you said, aware of everyone’s eyes on you as you exchanged a polite and obligatory hug. “It’s a very nice place here.”

“It really is, isn’t it?” he nodded and then, much to your relief, pointed at the tent. “Let’s go have some food, shall we? I’d been saving up my stomach the whole day for this.”

You chuckled and walked next to him towards the plastic table, filled to the brim with various plates of food. There was far too much grilled meat here – it was impossible for everyone to eat it all, no matter how many people were here – but that only seemed to please the CEO.

“Would you like to take a look at the pictures, sir?” the Head of HR approached Jungkook’s father after he noticed that your conversation had ceased.

Based on how carefully he held the treasured Samsung in his hands, you figured that, either the phone had cost several million dollars, or the man was genuinely terrified of Jungkook’s father – which wasn’t unlikely, as you very well knew.

“Oh, of course, of course,” Jungkook’s father said, always so pleasant, and then stopped to take a look at the phone. You weren’t sure if you should have kept walking or stopped as well. And then he solved the dilemma for you by addressing you, “I’m going to forward the picture to Jungkook so he knows what he’s missing.”

“Oh, yes, that’s a great idea,” you said, smiling, even though you knew Jungkook probably wasn’t even going to open the picture.

Funnily enough, you were wrong about that, too.

While you and Jungkook’s father joined the rest of his employees for the barbecue, Jungkook was finishing soundcheck with his bandmates. He checked his phone – like he did after each song – and rolled his eyes when he saw a text from his father instead of from you.

He opened it, though.

He didn’t care much for what his father said – but he had to admit, he’d never seen his father use the winky face emoji before, so that threw him off – but his eyes caught the picture he’d attached and Jungkook pressed on it without a moment’s hesitation.

Skimming over the bright smiles of his father’s employees, he scanned the picture, looking for you.

And he found you.

But not before he found Namjoon standing right next to you.

Much to your surprise, talking to the other employees – even despite the age gap – proved to be a lot of fun. Some of the older ones actually remembered you from when you were little; they recalled you and Jungkook holding onto Jungkook’s mother’s dress as she brought you two along when she came to visit her husband at the company. And the younger employees curiously absorbed everything you told them about your experience at university, sharing their own life stories with you in return.

Because you found yourself having a good time here, you only remembered that you’d left your phone in your handbag – which was across the camping grounds, tucked away in the lonely wooden gazebo – when Jungkook’s father – who was still here, much to everyone’s surprise – decided it was time to pop the champagne.

You excused yourself from the table, promising to return soon because you only meant to retrieve your phone so you could check the time and maybe check in with Jungkook in case his show was over by now.

That was not what ended up happening when you located your handbag under the various expensive jackets that were haphazardly thrown on the bench in the gazebo.

You pulled your phone out to see several missed calls.

None of those missed calls were from Jungkook. In fact, the majority of them came from Inna, which was already weird enough since she’d left campus again this weekend and she never called you. You always texted.

But what truly confused you were the last two missed calls because they were from Yoongi, Jungkook’s bandmate. You’d only talked to Yoongi on the phone once, when you were attempting to get in touch with Jungkook after he missed dinner at his parents’ place, but Yoongi was high back then so you didn’t think he even remembered.

But he did remember, apparently, because, while you stood there, puzzled and a little alarmed, his number lit up on your screen again.

Clearing your throat, you picked up the call. “Hello?”

“Oh, fuck, thank God, you’re here,” Yoongi spoke and, judging from the relief in his voice, he knew very well whom he was talking to. “Is Jungkook with you?”

“Jungkook?” you repeated stupidly. “W-why would he be with me? Don’t you have a show?”

Yoongi laughed, loudly and completely humorlessly. “We do have a show. He was wasted for the most of it.”

A painful bolt of electricity shot through you. “He performed drunk?”

“Doesn’t matter. At least, he performed,” Yoongi said, “that’s before the encore, though. We couldn’t find him. The fucking asshole completely missed the three final songs. We thought he went to see you.”

You felt a pang of guilt even though you had nothing to feel guilty about because Jungkook was most definitely not with you, and he didn’t have a single reason to come see you before he finished the show anyway.

“I-I’m not on campus right now,” you said, running your hand through your hair as you considered what could have happened in the span of the few hours since you left your dorm this morning, after having talked to Jungkook on the phone. “Did you try calling him?”

“Obviously. He’s not picking up. I’m pretty sure he tossed his phone into a fucking lake,” Yoongi said and then, even though he didn’t mean it, he added angrily, “he better be in the lake, too, or else I’ll kill him myself.”

Knowing that the scenario of Jungkook accidentally driving into a lake wasn’t one to be dismissed, you felt your skin shiver.

“I’ll look for him,” you promised, looking back at the celebration in the tent across the field.

“You said you weren’t on campus,” Yoongi said. “Your roommate said she was out, too.”

You weren’t aware that Yoongi had talked to Inna tonight, but that explained the avalanche of missed calls from her. You made a mental note to send her a quick explanatory text message on your way to your dorm.

“I’m coming back,” you told Yoongi, grabbing your bag and making your way back to the rest of the company. “Let me know if he gets in touch with you, though, okay?”

The boy on the other end scoffed. “He won’t. Chances are, he won’t talk to the rest of us for a week after he eventually shows up back home. As if it’s us who fucked up, and not him.”

“Did anything happen?” you asked, still trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together. That wasn’t easy when each piece looked drastically different from the next and you had no idea what the full picture was supposed to look like. “Did someone say something to him? Did he get into a fight? Did he—”

“No. Nothing happened. We were—ah, shit, wait, his dad texted him, didn’t he?” Yoongi said but it didn’t sound like he was addressing you. He wasn’t; a moment later, a muffled, “yeah” sounded in the background of the call. Then, Yoongi continued, “yeah, we were finishing up with the soundcheck when he got a text from his dad. He read it and just fucking dipped. When he came back to do the show, he was already struggling on his feet.”

You cursed under your breath before thinking aloud, “his dad is here. I did see him text Jungkook but he was just sending him a picture—could it have been the picture that triggered him?”

“A picture of what?”

“There’s this barbecue that the company organized. His dad invited us both but he stayed back to do the show, so I came alone. We took a picture, everyone who’s here. And his dad sent it to him. Could that be the reason why he—”

“No,” Yoongi said right away, “company dinners—or barbecues, or whatever—doesn’t sound like Jungkook’s thing. He wouldn’t give a fuck about the picture. Unless you took someone there as your plus one?”

“Of course I didn’t. I was supposed to come with him but—oh, fuck.”

You stopped walking, the realization hitting you first, and the absurdity of it following right after.

Namjoon was in the picture next to you. He was just standing there, not even touching you, but was it possible that his appearance in the picture was enough for Jungkook to lose touch with reality?

“Fuck, of course, that’s possible,” you said out loud, almost stomping your feet in frustration like a kid, throwing a tantrum. “Listen, I have to go. I’ll text you if I find him.”

You didn’t hear Yoongi’s response because you were already pulling the phone away from your ear as you returned to the tent. You needed to find a way to leave without raising any suspicions with Jungkook’s father – whom you ran past in a wide semicircle like he was the plague itself – and you figured that the best way to do that would be faking a health emergency.

But for that, you needed to spend another few inconspicuous minutes by the table, looking colorless and uncomfortable. That wasn’t going to be difficult since you did feel light-headed already.

As you waited for the right amount of time to pass before you could leave, you tried texting Jungkook. You even tried calling – thinking you’d have enough time to walk far enough from the table so that’d no one would hear you – but the beeping signal never ceased and you didn’t get to hear Jungkook’s voice.

Right when you bit your lip, trying his number for the fifth time in a row as if the previous four times were just glitches in the system, someone noticed your distress.

“Hey,” Namjoon’s voice sounded by your ear, startling you because he was across the table from you just a second ago. “You okay? You came back to the table, looking very out of it.”

“Namjoon,” you said, your voice so grave, he thought you were about to tell him that the entire campus had burned down while the two of you weren’t there and you were the only suspects. “I need to leave.”

“Did something happen?” he asked, the concern in his voice genuine.

You nodded. “Jungkook got in trouble. I have to go back, b-but I can’t tell his father about any of this.”

You spoke without thinking about your last conversation with Namjoon or how this news could have confirmed Jungkook as a useless waste of space in his eyes. Frankly, in that moment, you couldn’t have cared less about Namjoon’s opinion of Jungkook. 

You could have used his help, even if he was going to judge you for it.

“I’m going to call myself a cab,” you said, “but could you please do me a favor, and tell his dad that I’d left because I wasn’t feeling well?”

Namjoon pulled back from your chair and looked across the table to his own seat – his leather jacket resting on the back of the chair – before giving you a nod.

“Let’s go,” he said. You were already standing up but then paused and sat back down, confused.

“What?”

“I’ll drive you back to campus,” he said, “we can leave without saying anything – no one will even notice. And then, when I’m back, I can tell everyone that you weren’t feeling well and that’s why I took you home early.”

“T-that’s very kind, but I can really just—”

“No, let me take you home,” Namjoon insisted as gently as he could, afraid that his forceful tone might remind you of his previous slip-up when you were talking about Jungkook. “It’ll be my way of apologizing for stepping over the line earlier today.”

You considered telling him that he had nothing to apologize for – he didn’t know Jungkook personally and everyone was entitled to their own opinion; you’d just gotten annoyed that he was so quick to hide this opinion under the curtain of fake politeness – but, eventually, the realization that you really didn’t have the time to debate if he should have felt apologetic or not won over, and you nodded.

You needed to get back to campus quickly, even if there was a risk of Jungkook seeing you and Namjoon together again – if that really was the reason why he got drunk and missed the encore of his own show.

“Okay. Let’s go,” you said, finally standing up. “Thank you.”

keep reading | masterlist

#bts reactions #bts college au #jeon jungkook #bts fanfiction #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook college au #college au #fanfiction #bts angst #bts imagines #angst #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic

[nice-kill-tanaka]

🌄Bakugo + Rough & Tough Crush🌌

Looking for the whole set? Take Part 2 right here!

Summary: So, you’re a rough and tumble hero trainee huh? You don’t mind charging into a rightful battle headfirst? You have an incredibly gruff and inappropriate sense of humor? And you want to see if this boy can handle it! Well goddamn this is the scenario for you!

A/N: Not me using my daily internal dialogue for what Y/N says 😭💀(Also, I’m thinking of just doing one character at a time for the one-off headcanons for quality purposes.)

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💥Katsuki Bakugo💥

Let’s be honest here, Bakugo hated the living hell out of you at first

Your idealistic drive to be the strongest hero mirrored Deku’s philosophies a lot. And we know how Bakugo felt about that at the time

Before any real combative things came up, Bakugo thought you spoke a lot of inspirational seminar bullshit. But, when the curriculum would get a little harder than you thought it would? You’d wilt like a flower in a snowstorm

You did slightly below average on the physical assessment at the beginning of the year (which didn’t help in getting Bakugo to respect you), but he could tell that you were physically durable. So, at least you weren’t a complete liability in battle

On your end of the stick, you found Bakugo pretty amusing

While you liked a few things about him, like his stubborn one-track mind, and his nearly comical tsun tsun demeanor...He mostly gave you reasons to laugh at him

You swear it’s all in good spirits! But, your actions say otherwise when you profusely apologize to Midoriya for laughing when Bakugo threatened to blow his ass into next semester. And you were laughing at Bakugo’s short fuse, you promise!

Anyways, fast forward to the U.S.J. incident. The moment the first villains appeared, you shared a knowingly aggressive look with Kirishima (The guy you hit it off with since the beginning of the year)

The spark between your eyes practically yelled: “Like hell am I letting these bastards hurt my classmates.”

So there were you, Kirishima, and Bakugo, separated from the rest of 1-A in a random part of the U.S.J. that was a hazard from top to bottom. Ah, shit, other villains are there too

God, something about that underhanded villain tactic made your blood boil

When the three of you began fighting like rabid dogs, Bakugo caught a glimpse of the look in your eyes

While you were free of that “good vibes” spirit you met everything with, if you were afraid, you didn’t show it. An uncanny fire lit up everything you threw at your opponents. A fire Bakugo was all too familiar with

It was like looking into a funhouse mirror. The qualities you had were similar to Bakugo’s, but you showcased them much differently

On top of that, you were kicking some major ass out there

You really said “Damsel in distress?? Is that an island or something??” 😭

The number of villains you, Bakugo, and Kirishima took down were a pretty even split between the three of you. So, no one can say they didn’t pull their weight

Even after the heat of the moment, Bakugo could hardly identify the feeling in the pit of his stomach at the memory of you (It’s okay bby you’re just slightly turned on by y/n)

My guy just watched you rock his world with your sudden shift to a “take no bullshit” attitude. If he was gonna fall, he fell hard

And with the EQ this boy has, y’know what he does??

He mistakes his newfound crush for wanting to be in constant competition with you

Bakugo literally couldn’t accept that he simply admired the way you acted, and felt that you were another rival on his path to becoming the strongest hero

But, you couldn’t help but notice a shift in Bakugo’s demeanor towards you

He stopped insulting you like you were beneath him, instead using taunts and (quite aggressive) banter to get you fired up. It was almost like he treated you as someone on his level. Someone that Bakugo wanted to improve and get better so he could do the same thing with you

When you would tease Bakugo for random or trivial things, he’d never blow up at you. Instead, he wanted to provoke you. In an irritated and grungy voice, he’d say “fight me”.

You, being the scrappy little shit you are, would always reply with, “Oh, word?”

“Do it. You won’t.”

Cue the Bakusquad having to pull you two apart because it was the middle of lunch period you guys literally cannot be doing this-

(After you and Bakugo start dating, play fights [that are also very real fights] are a fundamental part of your relationship)

At the point Bakugo starts caring for your needs, things get a little weird

You get a lot of water bottles thrown at the back of your head, followed by a distinct: “HYDRATE OR DIEDRATE YOU THIRSTY FUCK. I’M NOT BEATING A MALNOURISHED BITCH INTO THE DIRT TODAY.”

Even though you never really mean to, you return the favor after you go into defensive mode: “AND WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU HAD A LEGIT MEAL?”

“LUNCH FROM YESTERDAY.”

“EAT.”

While you and Bakugo still aren’t romantically involved, physical affection isn’t quite affection to anyone but you two

Punches on the arm, light smacks to the back of the head, flicks on random parts of the body. Really anything that provokes the other person to fight back

Mina and Sero were the ones to pick up on Bakugo’s big fat crush, even though the signs weren’t that obvious

They saw how he subconsciously let out a smile (like the one he gave with Kota) whenever you did something awesome and (presumably) no one else was looking

They noticed that he got almost unreasonably aggressive when someone else would mention how cool you are. Responding with either a: “Damn right they are. And don’t you forget it!!” or “You could hardly dream of doing what they do. Train a little harder and grow a backbone, you might get close.”

It was almost akin to jealousy, considering how his brow would furrow a little more and his face would get the slightest bit red

Sero and Mina communicated their suspicions to Jirou, Kaminari, and Kirishima, and the overall agreement was that they needed to get you and Bakugo together

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[🌌Take this for your travels, bud. Don’t worry about paying me or anything, everything’s on the house! Though 🍁likes🍁 and ☘️reblogs☘️ are appreciated!🌄] — Reagan

#extra supplies #caravan commodities #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha #bnha #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #katsuki bakugo #bakugo #bakugou #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou x reader #bnha headcanons #mha headcanons #bakugou headcanons

[fervvor]

peter gadiot & he/him / cis male ‷ watch out , mackenzie abascal has crash-landed into roswell !! they look thirty-three years old and celebrate their birthday on august twenty-forth. they are from santa fe, new mexico, reside in aurora apartments and are currently working as manager of the wild pony. one thing you should know about them is that he’s a failed pro drummer.‷ ( melly, she/her, 21+, pst ) 

goes strictly by mack unless you’re his mother or have him on payroll

grew up not too far in santa fe ‘til he was eighteen and free

decided with some older guys to move their band ‘weather balloon’ to roswell, brand themselves with the alien schtick and consequently blow up

while it came a liiiittle close for a sec there -- it didn’t end up happening

instead the side job mack got at the wild pony to pay his bills ended up becoming a full blown career once his bandmates all moved on

he moved up the ladder from food runner to waiter to bartender and finally to manager. these days he’s only one step below the owner (who he quietly despises tyvm)

music is no longer a part of mack’s life, only drums when he needs to rage, but he’s fine to let it go in favor of Real Life stuff

mack’s personality is... high strung. he can be uptight and is very rarely amused, mostly bc he’s usually surrounded by ppl in their early 20s who already find themselves far too amusing

at work, he does his very best to run a tight ship but really only ends up slinging empty threats - though mostly bc, at the end of the day, he trusts his employees. if he looks pissed off behind the bar, that’s just a normal shift. it’s when mack’s not huffing and puffing that you should be worried.

he’s a decent man. got an extra crispy dry sense of humor and is loyal to a fault once he knows you. pessimistic (”realist”), stone-faced, and dad-ish. the type to ask when’s the last time you got your oil changed and then just start doing it for u himself, scolding you the whole time

tldr: mack is the overworked, underpaid manager of the wild pony. he used to drum in a band in his early 20s and it failed big time. he’s high strung, dry, and keeps mostly to himself. pessimistic, but low key loves his job.

#roswellintro

[hpdabbles]

Hey friend, i love your Love Limit: seven years fic 💕 are you going to continue it? And do you have an ao3 I can follow?

Thank you for liking my work mini-munch! I have a Ao3 under the name of Rbook but fair warning I haven't updated it in a well.

Harry and Leo had both been sorted into Gryffindor to the surprise of no one. Likewise, Malfoy and Nott were sorted into Slytherin, and while that meant he wouldn't see the blond as often as he like it was enough they shared plenty of classes.

Harry's fame didn't help in getting close to Malfoy seeing as most of the kids crowded around him and Leo when they ventured the hallways. Harry, unlike his father, didn't like attention so he left it to Leo who had the training in order to handle them and get them to back off without allowing anyone to make an article out of it.

Leo is regal in a way Harry isn't due to his friend having the Lord training that he did. Dad claims he never really took his own training seriously so he didn't force Harry to take the lessons and thus Harry never did.

He never really cared about it until Malfoy pointed it out.

"I must say, Black that was rather impressive," The blond said after Leo had gotten the three Ravenclaws who were bothering Harry about that fateful Halloween to leave. "I think it's a good example of how well you will run your estate by the way you handled that situation. "

"Thank you, Malfoy. Sometimes the best weapon is a good argument" Leo chips not missing a beat. "Though if they had continued I would resort to Lord Edicate number thirteen"

Harry didn't know what rule that was but the way Malfoy's pretty silver eyes light up with humor let him the other did. "Why thirteen when you could go for nineteen instead? It would send a better message."

"And risk flames getting out of control? I think not."

Malfoy laughs, making butterflies flutter in Harry's stomach. He wants to be a part of the conversation but he can't seem to find a good opening. He shifts foot from foot until he can't take it anymore and blurts out "We could also punch them in the face!"

The other two freeze, and while Leo smiles because yeah the other half-blood would, in fact, also throw fists after a while, Malfoy looks less than impressed. Harry chuckled awkwardly, blushing bright red but unable to stop. "Just aim for the nose."

"Or the neck! They never protect the neck" Leo adds

"Right," Malfoy says after a moment's pause. He nods to both of them and straightens out his robes. "Well, I best get to potions. Godfather hates when students arrive late"

"Uncle Severus is your godfather?" Leo asks to which Malfoy nods once then spins on his heel and walks away. Harry watches the way Leo's mouth thin out in displeasure at the dismissal and even he can say that was pretty rude. Malfoy he comes to realize over the course of the weeks they have been in school together isn't perfect, in fact, he could be what one calls a snobby brat, but he is still the prettiest person he's ever seen and somehow despite the imperfections or because of them Harry finds he likes Malfoy all that more.

It makes him seem real, instead of the perfect painting come to life upon their first meeting.

Watching Malfoy walk, he snorts. "I can see the resemblance."

"Hmm?"

"Malfoy's school robes blow behind him like Professor Snape's do"

Leo throws his head back to laugh and Harry joins him. They meet up with Ron on the way to the classroom, share the joke that still had them gigglingly like loons. The three arrive in Potions in such high spirits he nearly missed Nott placing a large leaf on top of Leo's head.

Without uttering a word the brown hair boy also pressed a smooth round rock into the Black's hand and stroll back to his table where other Slytherins were seated. He had already been sitting there, with Malfoy, Goyle, and Crabbe but had sprung to his feet the moment he saw them arrive.

Malfoy leads over to Nott, speaking in soft tones, but Harry is too far away to hear what they say.

Leo takes the leaf off his head, stares at it in his open palm alongside the rock, and then pressed them to his chest whispering "I've been blessed."

Ron gives Harry a confuse look but he shakes his head. He doesn't know what that was about either and finds he doesn't want to. Nott is a bit of a loon. He only really talks about his books or spends time outside collecting random objects.

Rocks, leaves, flowers, and sticks to name a few.

Despite the fact they are engaged Malfoy didn't really spend time with him on his little outings. They were civil and were spotted in public together often but Harry after spending so much time watching Malfoy realized that Nott was often left to his own devices.

Malfoy spent more time with Crabbe and Goyle, running around turning up his nose at some students and playing games.

Harry informed Leo of this little observation and soon his fiancee coincidentally was always outside studying when Nott was. Sometimes he would help the Slytherin find an "extra crunchy leaf" or a "shinny rock" and he come back to the tower with a goofy smile and a healthy blush that had nothing to do with the cold.

Harry didn't really see the appeal of an odd but intelligent (Nott was third of the year behind, Hermione and Malfoy) boy like that but that's why he fancied Malfoy and not Nott.

The fact Leo could listen to Nott go through facts and facts about rocks without ever getting tired just made him more sure he had to get the contracts broken so they all could be happy. First-year had gone by in a whirlwind of activity and sadly he hadn't made much progress on Malfoy even though he tried so much.

Every time he tried speaking to him, his mind still blanked and he often said something wrong. Harry also started to sweat a lot around him which left him feeling gross.

"Eyes on your caldron Potter" Professor Snape snapped as he walked by blocking Harry's view of Malfoy and Nott working on their potions. Blinking he turns his head away in surprise he has been staring at the blond without realizing it.

"Sorry" He mumbles which causes the man to huff but he thankfully walks away to yell at Longbottom who was making his caldron shake again.

"Are you okay Harry?" Hermione asks. She carefully stirs the potion under Leo's careful eye. Both of them were potion partners and took their work very seriously. Harry had chosen Ron as his partner.

"I'm fine."

Ron, who also strung the potion Harry was guilty of not helping with snorted dismissively. He says in a teasing voice that has Harry every flustered that Malfoy may hear. "Don't worry 'Mione, Harry is just staring at Malfoy. He's ensnared by his beauty leaving me to do all the work. Again."

"Have you tried talking to him, Harry?" The witch asks. "You know you won't get anywhere with him if you can't hold a conversation"

"He did talk to Malfoy this time. He told Malfoy we should punch people for being fangirls earlier today in fact" Leo answers unhelpfully.

Ron winces "Mate....why would you say that? That's a bit too...muggle for the likes of Malfoy."

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing wrong with muggle like 'Mione but trust me when I say it won't get Harry very far with Malfoy. His whole family is like that."

Harry sighs "I don't know. I wasn't thinking and he's not like his father Ron. I told you."

The redhead rolls his eyes. "Sure, mate. Love blinds and all that."

Leo hums. "Nott says Malfoy uses the m-word a lot and that it makes him uncomfortable."

"M-word?"

"Mudblood"

The witch's face twitches. "Oh, that word. I don't like that word."

"No one decent likes that word," Leo says dicing up the next ingredient with a hard look in his eye.

Harry frowns but he can't argue the fact that yes he has heard Malfoy say it too. It makes his plan on marrying him slightly strain if he's honest. But he wants to try and explain to Malfoy that it's a bad thing because he knows that Malfoy looks up to his dad and sometimes love really does blind.

If only his brain could function correctly around him.

"I know it's not alright-"

"Black." A soft voice interrupts them. All for Gryinddors turn to Nott who is standing at their table again. Over his shoulder, they could see Malfoy turning in a bottle potion to Professor Snape. Seems they had finished.

At once Leo's face softens and adoration sparks in his eyes. "Hi Nott."

"Hi. Did you like the stone? I found it in the Black Lake"

"I did! It's lovely, thank you for giving it to me" Leo chirps which make Nott smile. Harry is momently reminded that despite being so strange the other boy was in fact attractive. Leo's cheeks pinked.

"You're welcome. It's nicknamed the Slytherin Stone even though it has nothing to do with Salazar Slytherin. It's not valuable or anything just pretty." Notts kicks his feet for a second then adds "It's called that because some Slytherin Alumni students a few hundred years ago found them by chance and realized they only get that kind of green shine in the Black lake. It's tradition for Slytherin to throw an end-of-year party on the same day they found the stones.....would you like to come to the party?"

Leo's eyes go wide "Y-yes of course!"

Nott smile widens looking less nervous. "Great! It's this Friday at seven. It's outside now that the weather is warm enough, so casual wear is fine and there be some bonfires. Food will be provided as well. You all can come too, just say your my group's plus one."

He waved his hand to his Slytherin friends who jerk their chins out in agreement from their own table when they look over to them. Harry's heart squeezes when he realizes he could say I'm Malfoy's plus one and wants to cheer in joy.

"We'll be there!" Leo says. "And we'll be as cool as the Slytherin Stones."

Nott giggles. "You're adorable Black. See you Friday."

He walks away just as Harry realizes something. "I have to owl Mom to send me my leather jacket before the party!"

"Why?" asks Ron, who was trying his best to hide how excited he was to be going to the Slytherin party. Well, the snake house had a bad reputation their parties were the stuff of legends. None of his older brothers had ever been allowed to go as much as they tried.

"Uncle Sirius said leather jackets make smart boys weak."

Leo took out a piece of parchment looking determine "If I ask Aunt Lily to send it with mine through my hawk we will be ready by Thursday. Dad knows what he is talking about, after all, he got Father to marry him."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Boys."

#Hpdabbles #Harry Potter #Love Limit: Seven Years #Part 3 #Year one is almost over #Image that the stone was handled by adults #Theo and Leo are a good duo #Harry has spent months trying to talk to Draco and it isn't working #Drarry #Leo Black Lupin